Chosen Ones: Stalemate
by World of Bubbles
Summary: A year after RL, Atalanta has been kidnapped from Camp Half-Blood, marking the start of the Second Titan War. With Percy and Terra fighting for the dark side, Thalia, Nico, and Annabeth are called on to the front lines. Let the mind games begin. AU
1. Prologue

**Honestly, this is by far, my favorite Prologue. Percy's thoughts are just hilarious to write, Thalia's coming in second. Well here's Stalemate, the CO version of the Last Olympian. This was a doozy to write...**

**Rated T for suggestive themes, language, and violence.**

**I do not own the Last Olympian or the Percy Jackson series. A girl can wish though :P **

Clotho watches her sisters bicker, bored out of her mind. As one of the Fates she had the easiest job, spinning the thread, creating new life. She had no voice on weather a soul would live or die, her sisters, Lachesis and Atropos determined that.

"I'm telling you, if we kill him now we will regret it," said Lachesis, pointing a wrinkled finger at her sister.

"They must all die eventually," Atropos mutters, a scowl on her withered face. "The sooner the better I always say."

"We must think this over carefully!" the goddess of life snapped. "Just this one death could unravel the fabric of our civilization in the future. Do you really want to risk that, sister?"

Atropos huffs, "This tortured soul has seen and experienced much. I say he should be put to rest."

"You are attached to him then?"

She rolls her eyes, "Says the one who's dying to keep him alive. He won't survive the next few weeks and you know this."

Lachesis sighs, "Do as you please, sister. But if you are wrong, you _will_ fix this."

**Las Vegas, NV—July 4**

He wanted to cry, no he wanted to jump off a building. Never mind, he wouldn't die anyway. According to Hecate he could only experience death at the hands of a blade. Was she pulling some kind of stupid Hunters of Artemis shit on him? Fuck the stupid curse. No, fuck the whole Titan Army. Fuck the world. So, Percy had to settle for banging his head against a brick wall. How long had it been, three months or nine since he had his last glass of alcohol? That's too long, _far _too long.

Rage and hate flutters into his mind. He wants to kill Terra, hurt her for even suggesting the stupid idea to Kronos that he'd behave more if he was somber. What the absolute fuck? That didn't make Percy's disobedience any better, it only made him insane. Insanity is never a good thing especially when you mix it with Percy Jackson.

"Um… sir?" he hears a hesitant voice from the alleyway. He looks up, only to see Ethan Nakumara.

"What?" Percy snaps irritably.

Ethan shuffles nervously, "The half-bloods have been captured. Terra demands we return to base."

The son of Poseidon shoots him a deadly glare, "Go on then. What do you need me for?"

Ethan clears his throat, "Um… your kind of leading us."

Percy recalls that, the day he was given the position under Terra leading the half-blood part of the army. Oh how he loathed that job, those annoying little brats who couldn't do him any favors, who couldn't sneak even a drop of vodka in his drinks. The little bastards.

"Go ahead of me," Percy orders, "I'll catch up with you later."

"But Terra said—"

"Do I LOOK LIKE I give a _fuck_ what _Terra_ says?" he growls.

Ethan scrambles away in fear, getting the message. Percy knows Terra will come for him soon, mocking his madness.

"Interesting friends Jackson," he hears a womanly voice say. Percy subconsciously reaches into his pocket, fingering the empty space where Riptide is supposed to be. He sighs, realizing it's with Annabeth and Thalia now.

_Please kill me, please kill me,_ he begs silently, turning to face the woman. The first thing he notices are her piercing gray eyes. Percy grimaces instantly.

His eyes narrow, "Athena."

She nods slightly, "Perseus."

"Is there anything I can help you with?" he asks sarcastically. "Because I think you've got the wrong person."

"Oh no, I'm in the right place," Athena smiles. "Actually, as much as I hate to admit this, I've come to thank you."

Percy snorts, "For what?"

"I believe you know."

He grimaces, "Yeah, well… I didn't do it for you."

"I know," Athena murmurs. "You did it for her. You've protected Annabeth and Atalanta whereas I could not. And for that, I am in your debt. And, as I hate owing people, I've brought you a gift."

A brown paper bag appears in her hand. Percy takes it from Athena, glaring at her cautiously, "There isn't a bomb in this thing is there?"

She smiles, "Nothing will explode, I assure you this. I must go now. Take care of yourself Percy."

The goddess disappears, once again leaving him alone in the alley. He frowns at the bag, opening it hesitantly. Percy's eyes widen as he pulls out the contents.

A bottle of Gin.

**Half-Blood Hill—April 9**

**Seven Years Ago…**

A small group of demigods crowd around Daphne's laurel. For the first time, Peleus makes no protest having so many people around the Golden Fleece, as if sensing everyone's depressed mood.

A twelve year old Piper McLean cries, tears streaming down her face, "Please don't go Leo!"

Leo Valdez, sixteen at the time, gives her a reassuring hug, "Don't worry Pipes," he tells her, "I'll see you someday. Be strong for me, okay?"

Malcolm, ten, and Ethan Nakumara, nine, frown at the same time. "I don't understand why Leneus banished you," Ethan grumbles. "It's not like you did anything wrong."

"It was an accident!" Malcolm adds.

Leo sighs, "It doesn't matter now. Don't waste your breath over me, guys. What's done is done."

Murphy, an eleven year old daughter of Aeolus, grits her teeth, "So you just gonna leave? You're gonna let some stupid satyr run you outta town? That's not the Valdez I know."

Jason Grace grimaces, "She has a point Leo."

"Just drop it guys," the son of Hephaestus says sternly. "I burned down the west woods, yes I did do something wrong. And now, I have to face the consequences. I have to take full responsibility for my actions."

"You're starting to sound like Chiron," Rafael Hernandez, thirteen, mumbles.

Leo rolls his eyes, "Take care of yourselves. Don't do anything stupid, and don't die. Whenever I come back I expect to see all of you in one piece. Understand?"

They nod in mutual agreement, giving their friend half-hearted smiles. Leo slings his backpack over his shoulder, a small smirk on his face. He gives them one last wave before making his descent away from Camp Half-Blood.

A few meters away, a small voice rips through the misty spring air, "LEO!"

A little girl pushes past the group of six, straight towards Leo. She isn't older than two years old, yet somehow she's quick on her small feet. She embraces Leo's leg, her lower lip quivering. The little girl looks at him with pleading green eyes.

His expression softens, "Hazel…" Leo picks her up, pulling her into a meaningful hug.

"Don go!" the daughter of Apollo murmurs.

"I have to," he tells her, his eyes watering. "I'll be back, I promise."

"Tomawo?" Hazel asks.

"Tomorrow," he whispers, his heart aching as he lies to her innocent face.

**Who on Earth is Hazel? No one you need to be concerned about as she won't appear in the Stalemate. So banish whatever little thought you have in the head of yours, capice?**


	2. Chapter 1

**Camp Half-Blood—August 7**

They watch on silently from the cover of a dying willow tree. Campers garbed in armor, none of them younger than ten years old, charge the opposite team. Thalia and Nico's eyes narrow, studying their students' every move. Jason leads the red team, Michael Yew the blue. The two team captains surge forward to meet each other head on.

Thalia grins, "Losing team's teacher has to buy Mr. D's weed."

Nico glares at her, smirking, "You're on."

This week had been tenser than usual. The day of reckoning, Thalia and Nico's twenty first birthday, a little more than a week away. Of course Camp Half-Blood continued to show progress:

Sons and daughters of Hephaestus working full time in the forges, hoping to make enough weapons by their deadline tomorrow. The Apollo children's archery had improved; now no archer bothered to miss their mark. The Athena kids were everywhere, juggling their schedule of training, eating and formulating battle plans.

Young children, ten and under, always carried knives by their sides even though they didn't plan to participate in any war, all of them ordered to the safety of Bunker 9 or back home to their families. Even then, one could never be too safe. After all, they are the hope for the future if things do turn out as bad as everyone thinks.

But even then, all this preparation isn't enough. Both the Chosen Ones and Chiron know this, especially after the disappearances of campers suffered from this year and the last. Demigods are either being killed or joining the Titan's side.

"How are they doing?" Annabeth's sudden intrusion startles them.

Nico glares at her, "Are we gonna have to put a bell around your neck or something?"

"Well?" she asks impatiently. Nico hates Annabeth when she's like this. Ever since Percy's sudden turn to the dark side she's turned into this miniature version of Athena; cold, heartless, only focused on Camp Half-Blood's improvement and their next course of action. The only time she ever seems to relax is around Atalanta but even then it just isn't the same.

Thalia sighs, "They're doing well. The students are still getting accustomed to working in a pack mentality, watching out for each other. But still, some are playing a bit too offensive."

"Keep working them," Annabeth orders. "I don't care if have to read them a fucking text book on the Roman military, we need everyone on the same page."

Nico nods, already annoyed, "Let us do our jobs Annabeth. Go check in with Rachel and we'll stay here and do what we do best."

Annabeth rolls her eyes, "I want a full report on their statuses by dinner."

"Whatever," Thalia murmurs, fixing her eyes on the half-bloods below still locked in combat. "Guard Jason, guard!" she yells.

"Foot work Michael or you're buying Mr. D's weed!" Nico shouts, ignoring Annabeth. She sighs, leaving them to their class.

Rachel flutters anxiously around the room, her eyes constantly flickering from emerald to serpent green. She rips a sketchpad out of her drawer, grabbing a pencil. Her hand flies across the paper at unbelievable speeds. A knock at the door doesn't seem to deter her.

Another knock, drawing faster Rachel's only response.

"Rachel?" Annabeth mutters, opening the door. Rachel turns to look at her, eyes emerald green again, clutching the new drawing in her hand.

Rachel glances at it once before handing it to Annabeth. On it is an elaborate sketch of the Princess Andromeda, speeding with ease past rocky surf, filled to the brim with monsters.

"It's starting," Rachel whispers. "It's sailing from the Atlantic ready to reach the Upper New York Bay and travelling up the Hudson River."

"It's time?" Annabeth asks wearily.

Rachel nods, "It's time."

**New York City, New York—August 7**

A black figure soars over the Statue of Liberty, flying over the New York Bay, a collective term for the marine areas surrounding the entrance to the Hudson.

"Hope you know what you're doing," Annabeth says, glancing at the demigod seated behind her.

Leo grins, fixing the heavy backpack on his shoulders, "Leo Valdez always knows what he's doing."

Up on hearing the upcoming war, Valdez had fled Ukraine offering Cabin 9 assistance in the forges. Surprisingly, Leo was very useful when it came to explosives. After his banishment from Camp Half-Blood several years ago by the Council of Cloven Elders, impart to burning down the East woods after a game of Capture the Flag, Leo was hesitant to come back. But camp accepted him eagerly and he was allowed to reunite with his old group of friends.

Annabeth offers him a small smile, "We are gonna blow stuff up right?"

"That's the plan Wise Girl. Malcolm's managed to get me a good blueprint of the Princess Andromeda. We're to head to the engine room and plant the bombs. We've gotta be in and out before this baby enters the Hudson."

"I like blowing stuff up."

"I know you do."

It's almost dark by the time they reach their target. The Princess Andromeda, a giant cruise ship loaded with monsters.

"You know what to do?" Leo yells over the wind.

Annabeth nods, recalling all the dry runs they'd done at the dockyards in New Jersey, using abandoned ships as their targets. Annabeth knew how much little time they would have.

"Blackjack," she shouts. "Set us down on the lowest stern point."

Blackjack folds his wings, plummeting towards the boat like a black comet. The wind whistles in Annabeth's ears. From here she sees monsters patrolling the upper decks on the ship – _dracanae, _hellhounds, giants, and telekhines. But they zip by so fast, none of the creatures raise the alarm. Blackjack unfolds his wings, coming to a soft landing on the lowest deck. Annabeth and Leo climb off him, slightly queasy.

"Stay near the helipad," she tells him, "Don't land unless we're standing there, until then stay out of sight."

Blackjack nudges Annabeth, giving her a sad look as if to say _good luck._

And with that, her childhood friend takes off into the night. Leo leads the way down a narrow corridor. They come to a service stairwell, freezing at the sound of voices above them.

"I don't care what your nose says!" snarls the dog-like voice of a telekhine. "The last time you smelled half-blood, it was a meatloaf sandwich!"

"Meatloaf sandwiches are good!" a second voice growls. "But this is half-blood, I swear. They are on board!"

"Bah, your _brain_ isn't on board."

Annabeth rolls her eyes as they continue to argue. _Typical monsters. _Leo points downstairs, descending as quietly as he can. She follows his lead. Two floors down, the voices of the telekhines fade away.

They come to a metal hatch where Leo mouths the words _engine room_.

_It's locked,_ Annabeth mouths back. Leo snorts, pulling out a pair of chain cutters from his bag.

Inside, a row of yellow turbines the size of grain silos churn and hum. Pressure gauges and computer terminals line the opposite wall. A telekhine hunches over a console, too involved with his work to notice them, growling and muttering as he taps wildly on his keyboard.

As Leo steps forward, the telekhine tenses. He leaps sideways towards a big red alarm button. Annabeth blocks his pass, stabbing him in the neck. The monster explodes into dust.

"One down," Leo murmurs. "About five thousand to go."

He tosses Annabeth a jar of thick green liquid, Greek fire, followed by a roll of duct tape.

"Slap that one of the console," he says. "I'll get the turbines."

They go to work, the room turning hot and humid. In no time the two demigods are drenched in sweat.

Just as Annabeth attaches a second jar of Greek fire to the control panels she hears feet pounding on metal stairs; the sound of many creatures coming down the stairwell. Annabeth locks eyes with Leo, "How much longer?"

"Too long. I still have to wire the receiver and prime the charges. Ten more minutes at least."

"Shit," Annabeth mutters. "Fine, I'll distract them. Meet you at the rendezvous point."

"Annabeth–"

"Wish me luck."

Leo wants to argue. The whole idea of this plan is to get in and out without being seen. But now Annabeth has to improvise.

"Good luck," he says as Annabeth charges out the door. A half dozen telekhines tromp down the stairs, Annabeth killing them all in as little as two seconds. In mounds of gold dust she leaves one alive, hopping it will raise the alarm.

Annabeth busts through a door on the sixth deck, sprinting down a carpeted hall which unfortunately looks a lot like the inside of dragon's throat (And yes, she speaks from experience).

She reaches the promenade, a giant shopping mall which took up the whole middle of the ship. But that's when Annabeth freezes. In the middle of the courtyard is a fountain. Drinking from the fountain is giant, terrifying, hideous beast. Staring at her is…

A giant unicorn.

Now, Annabeth isn't referring to the one horned horse that roams around in a field of poppy. Or the creature that enjoys selling weed to Nico. No, this unicorn, naturally found in India, is a humungous monster, at the least nine feet tall, the size of a small elephant with enough muscle to flip over a whale.

This _thing_ bared no resemblance to a horse at all, looking like the cross between a deer and a jackal. Its teeth were those of a lion, its hooves jagged slabs of celestial bronze. Its bronze horn is massive, at least four and a half feet in length.

So if you ever here someone scream the word _unicorn, _you'd better run.

The creature turns its head to glare at her with deep navy blue eyes. It lifts its head to the sky letting out a horrifying wail.

"There!" a voice shouts from a balcony above. "Intruder!"

"Fuck!" Annabeth hisses. The demonic unicorn lunges at her.

She slides under its long, muscular legs, slicing its thigh. The unicorn falters slightly, baring its cat-like teeth. The monster moves again with amazing speed, horn aiming to pierce Annabeth's chest. She dives into the gift shop, plowing through a rack of t-shirts. The unicorn's hooves smash through the glass walls, raking across the room. Annabeth dashes back outside, breathing heavily. The creature turns and follows.

Annabeth stops in front of it, smiling, "You wanna a piece of me?"

The unicorn's eyes narrow and it charges. Once close enough, Annabeth uses a column beside her as a leverage to jump on the creature's back. She lands on its thick neck, her nose wrinkling at the foul smell. Annabeth plunges her knife into the back of the unicorn's skull.

The monsters shudders, letting out on final wail before its body dissolves. Its gleaming horn falls off, turning black like a pole of Stygian Iron.

Annabeth runs for the nearest stairs. All while, monsters and demigods sprint along the decks above her shouting orders and strapping on their weapons.

In the elevator foyer of deck eight, _dracanae _slither in to surround Annabeth.

"What isss thisss?" one says. "A prize for Kronosss?"

"Like hell," she hisses, kicking the snake woman in the face. She steals the dracanae's weighed net, throwing it on the others.

"Get her!" they scream. Hellhounds bark angrily. An arrow somewhere whizzes past Annabeth's face, impaling itself in the mahogany-paneled wall of the stairwell.

She doesn't care just as long as the monsters are away from the engine room, giving Leo more time.

Just as Annabeth's running up the stairwell, a kid charges down. He looked like he's just woken up from a nap, his armor half on. He draws his sword yelling, "Kronos!"

The gesture sounds more scared than angry. The boy couldn't have been more than twelve like most of the kids at Camp Half-Blood.

That thought makes Annabeth depressed, the fact this boy is getting brainwashed; trained to hate the gods and lash out because he'd been born half Olympian. Kronos is using him, and yet the kid thinks she is the enemy.

Annabeth steps inside his strike, grabbing the kid's wrist. She slams him against the wall, the sword clattering out of his hand.

She leans down to whisper in his ear, "If you want to live get off this ship_. _Tell the other demigods." Annabeth then presumes to push him down the stairs, tumbling to the next floor.

She keeps climbing the stairs, busting outside to the main deck.

Off the port bow, the sky darkens from purple to black. A swimming pool glows between two glass towers; more balconies and restaurant decks. The whole upper ship just seems eerily deserted.

All Annabeth has to do is cross the other side. Then she can take the staircase down to the helipad; the emergency rendezvous point. With any luck, Leo would be there already with Blackjack. Then a quarter a mile away, safe enough for Annabeth to see the explosion, they'd detonate the charges.

Annabeth's halfway across the deck when the sound of a voice makes her freeze. "You're late, Annabeth."

Terra's standing on the balcony above her, a smile on her coy lips. Despite the newly formed scar on her eye and the black armor on her chest, Terra pretty much looks like the same daughter of Nemesis Annabeth had met in the Labyrinth.

"We've been expecting you for days." At first her sounds normal, just like Terra. But then her face twitches, her eyes darkening until they become solid black. As she speaks her voice, icy and eerie sucks the warmth out of the air surrounding Annabeth, "Come, bow before me."

"My ass," she mutters.

Laistrygonian giants file in on either side of the swimming. Demigod archers appear on the roof above Terra. Two hellhounds leap down from the opposite balcony, snarling at Annabeth. Within seconds she's surrounded. A trap.

Annabeth looks up at Terra, anger boiling inside of her. All the times Annabeth sat through Percy's weekly rants on how Terra was a back-stabbing bitch Annabeth had defended her. Now she never really associated with the strange daughter of Nemesis but some part of Annabeth felt bad, what it must be like to be the youngest and smallest sibling. Even after their quest to save Zeus's Master Bolt Annabeth even thought she could form some kind of friendship with Terra. Those chances flew out the window when the daughter of Nemesis had led them to Atlas to be slaughtered on Mount Othrys. After that betrayal, Annabeth figured it was only a matter of time before she'd have to fight Terra eventually. Why not know now and spare Annabeth the trouble?

She jumps off the deck, coming to a soft landing right in front of Annabeth, "You are a foolish child to come here. Thanks to your friends my husband is gone." Terra sneers, "I should've snapped your neck in the Underworld when I had the chance."

A wave of coldness passes through Annabeth's veins, "Nyx?"

"No, it's Chiron," she retorts, smacking Annabeth's face with her sword. Annabeth's temple beings to throb, black spots dancing in her vision. She crouches on the floor, glaring up at Ter—Nyx. Just glancing up at the goddess gives her a migraine.

"A shame to kill you now," Nyx muses, "before the final plan unfolds. I would love to see the terror in your eyes when you realize how we will destroy Olympus."

"You'll never get this boat to Manhattan."

"And why would that be?" Her ebony eyes glitter knowingly. Her face—Terra's face—seems like a mask, unnatural and lit from behind by some evil power. "Perhaps you are counting on your friend with the explosives?"

She looks down at the pool, "Nakamura!"

A teenage guy in full Greek armor pushes through the crowd. His left eye is covered with a black patch. Annabeth had seen him before; she'd spared him in Anaetus' Arena. And this is how he repaid her.

"Success, my lady," Ethan Nakumara calls. "We found him just as we were told."

He claps his hands together. Two giants lumber forward, dragging Leo Valdez between them. He has a swollen eye and cuts all over his face and arms. His armor is gone, his shirt nearly torn to pieces.

"No!" Annabeth yells.

Their eyes meet. Leo spares a glance at his hand, trying to tell Annabeth something. _His watch._ They haven't taken it yet, and that is the detonator.

"We found him amidships," one of the giants says, "trying to sneak to the engine room. Can we eat him now?"

"Soon," Terra promises, back in control. She scowls at Ethan, her supposed half-brother, "Are you sure he didn't set the explosives?"

"He was going _toward_ the engine room."

"How do you know that?"

"Er..." Ethan shifts uncomfortably. "He was heading in that direction. And he told us. His bag is still full of explosives."

Slowly, Annabeth begins to understand. Leo had fooled them. When he realized he was going to be captured, he'd turned to make it look like he was going the other way. He'd convinced them he hadn't made it to the engine room yet.

Terra hesitates.

_Buy the story,_ Annabeth prays a burning sensation eating away at her temple.

"Open his bag," she orders.

One of the giants rips the explosives satchel from Leo's shoulders. He peers inside, grunting. He turns it upside down. Monsters panic, surging backwards. All that falls out is peach cans.

Annabeth can hear Terra breathing, trying to control her anger.

"Did you, perhaps, capture this demigod near the galley?"

Ethan pales, "Um—"

"And did you, perhaps, send someone to actually CHECK THE ENGINE ROOM?"

Ethan scrambles back in terror, running back to the direction he came from.

Annabeth curses silently. She catches Leo's eyes again, a silent question passing between them, _How long?_

He cups his fingers and thumb, making a circle. _Zero._ Annabeth nods, understanding.

Terra turns back to her with a crooked smile, "You'll have to excuse my incompetent help, Annabeth. But it doesn't matter. We have you now. We've known you were coming for weeks."

She holds out her hand. Dangling there is a little silver bracelet with a scythe charm—the Titan lord's symbol.

Despite her muddled thoughts, Annabeth mutters, "Communication device ... spy at camp."

Terra chuckles, "You can't count on friends. They will always let you down. Luke, Percy and I learned that lesson the hard way. Now drop your sword and surrender to us or your friend dies."

Annabeth swallows hard. One of the giants has his hand around Leo's neck. Annabeth certainly isn't in any shape to rescue him. Leo will die before she can reach him. The both of them will.

Leo mouths one word: _Go._

Annabeth shakes her head in refusal. She can't leave him.

The second giant is still rummaging through the peach cans, which means Leo's left arm is free. He raises it slowly toward the watch on his right wrist.

Annabeth wants to scream at him to stop.

Down by the swimming pool, one of the _dracanae_ hiss, "What isss he doing? What isss that on hisss wrissst?"

Leo closes his eyes tight bringing his hand up to his watch. One last smile plastered on his face.

He isn't giving Annabeth a choice. She throws her sword like a javelin at Terra. Startled, she jumps back, the blade narrowly missing her thigh. Annabeth pushes through a crowd of monsters. She jumps off the side of the ship towards the sea a hundred feet below.

Monsters yell at her from above. A spear sails past her ear. An arrow pierces her thigh, but Annabeth barely has time to register the pain. She plunges into the black water, using her aching legs to propel her away from the ship.

A hundred meters away the ship explodes, heat singing the back of Annabeth's head. The _Princess Andromeda_ is nothing but a massive fireball of green flames churning into the dark sky, consuming everything in its path.

Even as Annabeth blacks out all she can think about is Leo.

**Atlantis—August 8**

She's standing in a pavilion the roof open to the night. The room is ringed with black Greek columns and statues of the Titans. Torchlight glows against the black marble floor. In the center of the room, an armored giant struggles under the weight of a swirling funnel cloud—Atlas, holding up the sky.

Annabeth knows this place. Its Mount Othrys, the same place Percy betrayed her last year.

Two other giant men speak in hushed voices nearby, studying images in the flames of a bronze brazier.

"Quite an explosion," one says, dressed in black armor studded with silver dots like a starry night. His face is covered in a war helm, ram's horn curling on either side of it.

"It doesn't matter," the other says.

This Titan is dressed in gold robes, with golden eyes like ichor. His entire body seems to glow, reminding her of Apollo, God of the Sun. Only the Titan's light is harsher, his expression much crueler. "The gods have answered the challenge. Soon they will be destroyed."

The images in the fire are hard to make out: storms, buildings crumbling, mortals screaming in terror.

"I will go east to marshal our forces," the golden Titan says. "Krios, you shall remain and guard Mount Othrys."

Krios grunts, "I always get the stupid jobs. Lord of the South. Lord of Constellations. Now I get to babysit Atlas while _you_ have all the fun."

Under the whirlwind of clouds, Atlas bellows in agony, "Let me out, curse you! I am your greatest warrior. Take my burden so I may fight!"

"Quiet!" the golden Titan roars. "You had your chance, Atlas. You failed. Kronos likes you just where you are. As for you, Krios, do your duty."

"And if you need more warriors?" Krios asks. "Our treacherous nephew in the tuxedo will not do you much good in a fight."

The golden Titan laughs. "Don't worry about him. Besides, the gods can barely handle our first little challenge. They have no idea how many others we have in store. Mark my words, in a few days' time, Olympus will be in ruins, and we will meet here again to celebrate the dawn of the Sixth Age!"

The golden Titan erupts into flames, disappearing.

"Oh, sure," Krios grumbles. "He gets to erupt into flames. I get to wear these stupid ram's horns."

The scene shifts. Now Annabeth is outside the pavilion, hiding in the shadows of a Greek column. A girl stands next to her, eavesdropping on the Titans. She has dark silky hair, pale skin, and camouflaged clothes—its Bianca Di Angelo, Nico's sister.

She frowns at Annabeth, "Leo doesn't blame you for his death Annabeth. But we're running out of time, you need to wake up before Kronos rises."

Her head feels like it's been microwaved in aluminum foil. She opens her eyes only to see a large shadowy figure looming over her.

"Leo?" she murmurs hopefully.

The figure speaks in a high pitched chattering voice, "Lord, she is awake."

Annabeth's eyes attempt to refocus. Her body feels weightless and cold. Her voice sounds wrong. She can hear two voices speaking in the room, but it's more like hearing vibrations inside her skull, not regular sounds.

She sits up hesitantly, a gossamer sheet floats away. She's sitting on a bed made of silky woven kelp, in a room paneled with abalone shell. Glowing pearls the size of basketballs float around the ceiling, providing light. She's under water.

Now, having your ex-love of your life being a son of Poseidon all, well Annabeth was okay with being underwater. But it's still a bit of a shock when a hammerhead shark drifts through the bedroom window swimming calmly out the opposite side of the room.

Near the window, is a dolphin, a regular dolphin, staring at her curiously. Next to him is an old man with a bushy white beard and gray hair. His battle armor seems to weigh him down. He has smile wrinkles around his green eyes, but he isn't smiling now. Grimacing at her while leaning on a large metal staff.

"Where—"

"My palace," the old man says.

"How long—"

"We found you last night," says the dolphin, "sinking through the water."

"The _Princess Andromeda_?"

"Gone," the man confirms, sparing a glance out the window.

She glares at them distrustfully, "Who are you?"

The old man chuckles, looking into her eyes. She recognizes him for somewhere. "I am hurt a daughter of Athena cannot recognize her mother's own rival."

Annabeth's head throbs, "Lord Poseidon?"

He nods, "As Delphin stated before we found you in the water. A few of my sentries spotted you and brought you to me."

"Leo Valdez was on board. Did you find..."

"No sign of another." Delphin murmurs. He glances at her devastated face, "I am sorry, for you loss Miss Chase."

"How do you know my name?"

"Lord Poseidon hasn't had a grandchild in a few hundred years. Word spreads quickly around here, and Percy Jackson and those he is associated with have been a recent topic now and days."

She stares out the window into deep blue water, uncomprehendingly. Leo had just gotten back to Camp Half-Blood. He was supposed to turn 23 in the fall, which meant seven years he hadn't been able to see his siblings, friends or Chiron.

Now, Leo couldn't be _gone._ Maybe he'd made it off the ship like Annabeth had. Maybe he'd jumped over the side . . . and what? He wouldn't be able to survive a hundred-foot fall into the water like Annabeth. He certainly couldn't have put enough distance between himself and the explosion.

In her gut Annabeth knows Leo is dead. He'd sacrificed himself to take out the _Princess Andromeda,_ and she had abandoned him.

A distant blast shakes the room. Green light blazes outside, turning the whole sea as bright as noon.

"What was that?" Annabeth asks.

"Nothing that concerns you," Poseidon says rather coldly. "Delphin, send Palaemon and his legion of sharks to the western front. We have to neutralize those leviathans."

"Yes, Lord." The dolphin, speeds away, leaving the room. Poseidon turns back to the window, staring at the ocean intently, as if figuring out a map.

"What happened to you?" Annabeth blurts out.

"You must excuse my appearance, Annabeth. The war has been hard on me."

"But you're immortal," she says quietly. "You can look... any way you want."

"I reflect the state of my realm," he tells her. "And right now that state is quite grim. The battle against Oceanus is going poorly."

"Oceanus," she says, remembering. "The Titan of the sea?"

Poseidon nods, "He was neutral in the first war of gods and Titans. But Kronos has convinced him to fight. This is... well, it's not a good sign. Oceanus would not commit unless he was sure he could pick the winning side."

"Bad?"

"Very bad," he agrees. "We have been at war almost a year now. My powers are taxed. And still he finds new forces to throw at me-sea monsters so ancient I had forgotten about them." Poseidon sighs, "Well, we haven't much time Annabeth. Tell me of your mission."

She tells him everything, though her voice chokes up when she explains about Leo. Poseidon notices this, "Leo Valdez isn't the first death of this war nor will he be the last. He chose a heroic end. You bear no blame for that. Kronos's army will be in disarray. Many were destroyed."

"But Nyx didn't die, did she?"

"She is still very much alive, I assume," Poseidon admits. "But you've bought our side some time. Leo's sacrifice wasn't in vain, though. You have scattered the invasion force. New York will be safe for a time, which frees the other Olympians to deal with the bigger threat."

"The bigger threat?" she thinks back to what the golden Titan had said in her dream: _The gods have answered the challenge. Soon they will be destroyed._

A shadow passes over the sea god's face, "You've had enough sorrow for one day. Ask Chiron when you return to camp. And be sure he tells you the prophecy. The _entire_ prophecy. Warn your friends at camp. Nyx knew of your plans. You have a spy."

Another rumble shakes the room. "Oceanus approaches," he says. "I must meet him in battle. You must depart now. Let us hope you do not fail us Miss Chase."

"Thank you, Poseidon," Annabeth says. "And I... I wanted to say... I'm sorry about Percy."

The god's expression hardens like he's turned to marble, "You should've left that subject alone."

Annabeth steps back nervously, "Sorry?"

"SORRY doesn't cut it!"

He raises his staff, changing it into his regular weapon—a huge three-pointed trident. The tip glows with blue light, the water around it boiling with energy.

"You should've saved him when you had the chance," Poseidon growls at Annabeth. "You're the only one who could have."

A wave of anger passes over her, "Maybe you should blame yourself! Maybe if you hadn't abandoned Percy and left him for dead in the Labyrinth! Maybe if you had just humored Hecate none of this would've happened!"

Poseidon raises his trident. He begins to grow until he's ten feet tall. Annabeth begins to think, _Well, that's it._

But as he prepares to strike, a small shiver runs down his spine like an electric shot. Poseidon clenches his teeth. He lowers his weapon, "Thanks to your insufferable goddess I must spare you. But you will _never_ speak to me like that again. You have no idea how much I have sacrificed, how much—"

His voice breaks. Poseidon shrinks back to human size, "My son, my greatest pride…"

He sounds so devastated Annabeth doesn't know what to say. One minute he's ready to vaporize her and now he looks like he needs a hug. Not that Annabeth planned to give him one; she prefers to keep her limbs intact.

Poseidon glares at her, though the look on his face isn't really anger. It's pain. Deep, incredible pain.

"I will leave you now," he says tightly. "I have a war to fight."

Poseidon snaps his fingers and the world goes black.

**Well, as said I am going on vacation. We will be leaving tomorrow afternoon so I'll post a chapter in the morning. The soonest I'll be able to update is Sunday night...**


	3. Chapter 2

**Mount Tamalpais—August 8**

Chains bound Percy to wall in his cell. His head is throbbing from where those Telekhines wacked him upside the head with an unfinished sword. One dispute with Terra, just one small idiotic dispute and Percy's suddenly bitch slapped with a glowing, sizzling piece of fucking metal. Well, he did leave a gruesome scar on her eyelid but who gives a damn when it comes to a bitch like her?

Percy mutters a string of profanities, struggling against his restraints. His attempts at escaping suddenly become futile as the door to his prison is pushed open. Terra strolls in, a smile on her face. Weird, considering he kicked her ass a couple hours ago.

"Perseus," her black eyes, once green, gives it away. He isn't talking to Terra at all, only Nyx. Gods he hates that bitch, the stupid primordial goddess of night. Ever since her husband Erebus was destroyed and Luke fell into the River Lethe, Terra/Nyx (Terra, possessed by the goddess) had become Kronos's second-in-command and Percy's boss. She pretty much hates Percy after the whole stabbing thing in the Underworld.

"What's the meaning of this?" he growls. "Still don't trust me around blades?"

Nyx gives him another one of her mysterious smiles, "Just a precaution." She takes a moment to purse her lips, "Kronos will rise soon."

He rolls his eyes, not particularly giving a fuck, "Come to gloat?"

"Nothing of the sort Mr. Jackson. In fact, we have just one more mission to accomplish. A rather simple one at that."

"Haven't I done enough?" he retorts angrily.

Nyx frowns as if he's somehow hurt her feelings, "I was afraid you'd feel that way. Bring her in."

Once again the door opens, two dracanae slithering in. Before him they drop a small demigod to the floor.

"Daddy?" she cries, rubbing the tears and soot away from her face. Percy's eyes flare up in rage.

"You bitch!" he snarls, trashing violently. Despite the shackles, made of Celestial Bronze and being nailed to the wall, the bolts loosen considerably.

"Precautions," Nyx muses, her voice sounding more like Terra's. The smile from her face disappears. She grabs Atalanta's arm, pulling the little girl to her feet, "There. All the motivation you need to complete this task. Fail me Perseus and I will take my anger out on her."

He glowers at her, "Touch my daughter Nyx and you'll end up with Erebus burning in Tartarus."

She laughs at this, "And to think Terra feared you. I am the goddess of night you insolent boy. I fear no one."

"…but Kronos," he murmurs, giving her a steely glare. "My mission, if you'd be so kind?"

"I knew you'd see it my way," Nyx says smugly. She turns to the snake women, "Take the child away. Her presence is no longer required."

**Camp Half-Blood—August 8**

If you want to be popular at Camp Half-Blood, don't come back from a mission with bad news, especially after camp has been attacked. Words of her arrival spreads as soon as Annabeth walks out of the ocean. Only she's greeted by the sight of the east woods on fire. This afternoon the lookout on duty is Murphy from the Hermes cabin, the daughter of the wind god Aeolus. When Murphy spots her, she smiles, jumping out of a tree. Her blue eyes sparkle with excitement.

"Where's Leo?" she asks, shaking the leaves in twigs out of her short bleach white hair.

"Walk with me," Annabeth orders, avoiding her question.

On the inside she grimaces, knowing Leo's death is going to hit everyone hard, especially the Hephaestus kids. But certainly not as hard as the assault led by enemy half-bloods right outside Camp Half-Blood's borders. Currently a couple of Hermes kids are, like most people, attempting to rebuild their cabin. So far, it isn't going incredibly well.

"I said to the left man, TO THE LEFT!" Travis Stoll hollers at the others.

Connor comes up behind him, a quizzical look on his face, "Dude, you know that you're right, right?"

Travis eyes widen, "Oh… TO THE RIGHT!"

The other campers groan.

Annabeth comes up behind him, nudging his shoulder, "What's our status?"

"One injured, an Aphrodite girl," he mumbles. "It's weird they just come out of nowhere these bunch of enemy half-bloods. Then they just ran away like a bunch of pansies. The Titan Army's turned them into cowards."

She breathes a sigh of relief, "Atalanta, is she okay?"

Connor shrugs, "You might wanna check out Bunker 9. That's where all the young ones fled to. Piper's taking role right about now."

"Okay, where's Thalia and Nico?"

Travis blinks, "Uh, they just left a few moments ago actually. Rachel was giving them a boat load of sketches. I don't what it's about but I think Jason knows where they're headed. Although…"

Annabeth doesn't wait for Travis to finish his sentence.

Piper pales at the sight of Annabeth," I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—I…I don't know where…" the daughter of Aphrodite bursts into tears.

Annabeth, uneasy, pulls her into a hug, "Piper, what's wrong, did something happen?"

"She's gone."

Annabeth's eyes widen, "Who's gone?"

"Atalanta."

She pushes Piper away, unable to look at her. Sadness stabs through her heart like a knife. "Wait, Annabeth where's Leo?"

Another round of pain flashes across Annabeth's face. _Leo._

She turns away from Piper, running away from Bunker 9.

**Clifton, New Jersey—August 8**

A woman sobs, crying out in the middle of a terrified crowd, surrounding a toy shop. The glass window of the story had been smashed to pieces, Greek fire still eating away at a shelf of stuffed animals.

Grover stands by the forlorn mother, comforting her. Through the Mist his regular Satyr Securities uniform disguises itself as one from the Passaic County Police Department. Thalia and Nico push their way past pedestrians, dodging angry police officers.

"Grover," Thalia says, grabbing his shoulder. "What's going on?"

He gives her an anxious glance, "Its Deputy Underwood to you, Miss Grace." Grover turns back to the woman, "Excuse me for a moment."

He pulls both of them aside, glancing one more time at the crying mortal, "Half-blood was kidnapped. I'd been following a lead on Percy's whereabouts. A couple of dryads had spotted him in Northeastern New Jersey. Apparently what I got from some witnesses, the mother of the half-blood being a clear-sighted mortal, Percy and a team of dracanae had gotten away with Tyler Edwards, a son of Apollo around eight years old."

"Do you know how they escaped?"

"The primary witness states they were in and out, practically disappearing. My guess would be the Labyrinth but I doubt you'll manage to find him in there."

Nico sighs, "I know how." He turns to Thalia, "Will you try to behave this time?"

Her eyes narrow, "Depends, where are we going?"

"The Underworld."

**Mount Othrys—August 8**

Thalia smiles at Nico, "You look fierce holding a potted carnation."

"Shut up!" Nico groans. "It's not like there's another way to do this."

He hates carrying the stupid magical flower around; knowing monsters are never going to take him seriously when he slices them in half. If there had been another way to track Tyler Edwards… Hades knows Nico would've tried it. The one time he asks a favor from Persephone and she makes him look like an idiot. Why on Earth didn't she just turn the tracking flower into a watch or something?

Currently the two are wandering down some corridor in the Labyrinth soon coming to a crossroads. The tunnel continues straight ahead, but a side tunnel leads off to the right—a circular shaft carved from volcanic rock.

Wind blows down the tunnel, as if the exit is close. With the breeze they smell something vaguely familiar—something that brings back bad memories.

"Eucalyptus trees," Thalia says. "Like in California."

Last year, when they'd held Atlas's burden together the air had smelled like that.

"There's something evil down that tunnel," she grimaces. "Something very powerful."

"And the smell of death," Nico points out.

Thalia rolls her eyes, "Yes, Nico. Thank you, it makes me feel so much better."

"Percy's entrance," he guesses. "The one to Mount Othrys—the Titans' palace. The flower's leading there anyway."

She shrugs, "Then who are we not to follow?"

"Um… insane?" Nico offers.

"That was a rhetorical question but yes. Maybe we are insane. But hey, we've gotta a half-blood to rescue… assuming it's not too late."

Before they even reach the exit voices are heard: the growling, barking sounds of sea-demon smiths, the telekhines.

"We have salvaged the blade," one says. "The master will still reward us."

"Yes! Yes!" a second shrieks. "Rewards beyond measure!"

Another voice, this one more human, cries out, "Please I just wanna go home!"

Tyler Edwards.

"No, half-blood!" a telekhine says. "You must help us make the presentation. It is a great honor!"

They creep towards the end of the tunnel. A blast of cold air hitting them as they emerge. They're standing near the top of Mount Tam, the Pacific Ocean spread out below, gray under a cloudy sky.

About twenty feet downhill, two telekhines place something on a big rock—something long and thin wrapped in black cloth. Tyler stand aside, tears streaming down his face.

"Control your sobs," a telekhine scolds. "The master will not tolerate weakness."

Thalia glances up at the mountain's peak, where a black marble fortress looms. It reminds her of an oversized mausoleum, walls fifty feet high. Above them, the sky swirls into a huge funnel cloud. She can't see Atlas, but she can hear him groaning in the distance, still laboring under the weight of the sky, just beyond the fortress.

"There!" the telekhine barks. Reverently, he lifts the weapon, Nico's blood turning to ice.

It's a scythe—a six foot-long blade curved like a crescent moon, with a wooden handle wrapped in leather. The blade glints two different colors— steel and bronze. It's the weapon of Kronos, the one he'd used to slice up his father, Ouranos, before the gods had taken it away from him and cut _Kronos _to pieces, casting him into Tartarus. Now the weapon is re-forged.

"We must sanctify it in blood," the telekhine says. "Then you, half-blood, shall help present it when the lord awakes."

They don't stick around for the rest. Thalia and Nico run toward the fortress. They know what they have to do, to stop Kronos from rising. This is their only chance.

They dash through a dark foyer into the main hall. The floor seems to shine like a mahogany piano—pure black and yet full of light. Black marble statues line the walls. They don't recognize the faces, but they know these are images of the Titans who ruled before the gods. At the end of the room, between two bronze braziers, is a dais. Sitting on the dais is a golden sarcophagus.

The room is silent except for the crackle of the fires. Percy is nowhere to be seen. No guards. Nothing.

They approach the dais hesitantly, wondering if it's supposed to be this easy.

The sarcophagus is just like they remember—ten feet long with elaborate scenes of death and destruction, pictures of the gods being trodden under chariots, temples and famous world landmarks being smashed and burned. The whole coffin gives off an aura of extreme cold, like walking into a freezer. Their breath begins to steam.

They both draw their weapons, taking little comfort in them, standing over the coffin. The lid is decorated even more intricately than the sides—with scenes of carnage and power. In the middle is an inscription carved in strange letters; a language of magic.

KRONOS, LORD OF TIME.

Nico's hand touches the lid, his fingertips turning blue. Frost gathers on his sword. Thalia places her hand on the lid as well, shivering slightly. They soon hear noises behind them—voices approaching. It's now or never.

Together, they push back the golden lid and it falls to the floor with a huge bang.

Nico lifts his sword, ready to strike but when he looks inside, he can't comprehend what he's seeing. Mortal legs, dressed in gray pants. A white T-shirt, hands folded over his stomach. One piece of his chest is missing—a clean black hole the size of a bullet wound, right where his heart is supposed to be. His eyes are closed, his skin pale. Black hair and handsome features.

The body in the coffin is Percy's.

They should have stabbed him right then. Thalia should've brought the point of Riptide down with all her strength.

But Thalia's too stunned. She doesn't understand, or rather, she doesn't _want_ to understand. As much as she hates Percy, as much as he had betrayed her, she just doesn't understand why he's in the coffin, and why he looks so very, very dead.

Nico grabs Thalia's arm, both of them melting into the shadows. Just in time too as the voices of the telekhines are right behind them.

"What has happened?" one of the telekhines scream.

"Careful," the other warns. "Perhaps he stirs. We must present the gifts now. Immediately!"

The two telekhines shuffle forward, kneeling. The one holding Tyler forces the son of Apollo to bow.

"My lord," the one holding up the scythe mumbles. "Your symbol of power is remade."

The room is dead silent.

"He requires the half-blood first you idiot!" the other telekhine hisses, pulling out a knife. Tyler begins to cry as the monster presses the knife to the mortal boy's throat.

"Don't be a coward! The Lord only requests you allegiance. Pledge him your service, renounce the gods. That is all that will be required of you."

"N—" Nico places a hand on Thalia's mouth to cut off her protests. She gives him a steely glare.

"Pledge your allegiance or die demigod!"

Tyler hesitates, "I—I renounce the gods. I will see them destroyed. I will… I will serve Kronos."

The building rumbles. A wisp of blue light rises from the floor at Tyler Edward's feet, drifting towards the coffin. It starts to shimmer, a cloud of pure energy, which soon descends into the sarcophagus.

Percy bolts upright, his eyes open. They're no longer sea green; his eyes are gold just like the casket. The hole in his chest is gone; he's finally complete. He leaps out of the coffin with ease, where his feet touch the floor the marble freezes resembling craters of ice. He stares at the telekhines and Tyler, curiously, almost unsure. Then he catches sight of the scythe and smiles.

The weapon flies from the monster's grasp, straight into Percy's hand.

"This body has been well prepared," his voice is like nails scarping against a chalkboard. The voice belongs to Percy but at the same time it's not. Underneath his voice is another far more powerful, ancient and pure evil. "Don't you think so Nico? Thalia?"

With a flick of his hand the two half-bloods fly from across the room, Nico slamming against a marble pillar, Thalia against the golden sarcophagus. Kronos throws back his head and laughs. Thalia struggles to get up, catching the attention of Kronos. He turns slowly, walking towards her. He crouches down on the balls of his feet and grabbing her chin.

He stares into her defiant eyes, "A daughter of Zeus. You're an interesting one, I must admit. I shall make it a point to keep you alive after my victory over the Olympians."

She cringes, unsure of what's worse: the fact Kronos, her grandfather, has taken a liking to her or that the words are coming out of Percy's mouth.

Nico gets to his knees, groaning, "What have you done to Percy?"

Kronos smiles, dropping Thalia at his feet, "He serves me with his whole being as I require. The difference is he cared for you Nico Di Angelo. Whereas I do not."

That's when they hear it, a faint call, and familiar voices.

"Nico! Thalia!" It's Annabeth and Murphy.

"No!" Thalia screams, getting to her feet. She grabs one of her knives, lunging forward. Kronos smiles, turning to face her. As their eyes meet, time slows. Thalia feels as though she's gazed into the eyes of Medusa, her legs becoming as stiff as stone. He walks away from her, moving towards Nico.

Kronos raises his scythe, taking a moment to admire it, "Backbiter, Luke called it. An appropriate name. Now that it is completely re-forged it shall indeed _bite back._"

The footsteps are getting closer. Nico grabs his sword, doing the stupidest thing he's done in a long time. He charges the Titan Lord. Kronos powers turn towards Nico, releasing Thalia from her spell. A bolt of lightning rips through the chamber, aiming for the Titan's back. Kronos parries her attack with the blade of his scythe. He swings the weapon in his hands just in time to block Nico's sword.

Thalia lurches forward. Kronos kicks Nico away, whirling to face her. He slices with his scythe to which she manages to catch on the hilt of her knife, deflecting it.

"Percy, please, don't do this," she says.

"Perseus Jackson, is GONE!" Kronos roars, a wave of pure force blasting Thalia backwards. She jumps up to her feet, blocking his next attack but the force of the blow makes her step back. Kronos swings his scythe at her now exposed leg. As she loses balance, the Titan Lord lashes out, his fist connecting with her face. Nico's already intervening, but Kronos puts a hand on Thalia's throat.

Immediately, Nico pauses.

Kronos gives him a shit-eating grin, "She's a pretty one Di Angelo. We wouldn't want anything happen to her now would we?"

Nico doesn't answer.

"That's what I thought," the Titan says smugly. "Now, surrender to me."

Nico hesitates. Thalia gives him a murderous as if to say, _I swear to the gods if you surrender I'll chop your fucking balls off._

Before he can even respond they hear someone yell, "NICO!"

Annabeth's voice.

Something flies past him, and suddenly a blue plastic hairbrush hits Kronos in the eye. "Ow!" he yells. For a moment it's only Percy's voice, full of surprise and pain. He lets Thalia go to which she takes advantage. They run for their lives straight into Annabeth and Murphy who are standing in the entry hall, their eyes filled with dismay.

"Percy?" Annabeth calls. "What—"

Nico grabs her by the shirt, hauling the daughter of Athena after him. They run as fast as they've ever ran before, straight out of the fortress. They're almost back to the Labyrinth entrance when they hear the loudest bellow in the world—the voice of Kronos, coming back into control. "AFTER THEM!"

Nico pulls them into a shadow just in time, the howl of the Titan lord shaking the entire world behind them.


	4. Chapter 3

**Monday evening, not bad if you ask me :DD**

**Camp Half-Blood—August 8**

The sun is setting in Long Island when they collapse on Half-Blood Hill. Annabeth curls herself into a ball, all of it finally sinking into her. Percy's gone. Atalanta's gone. Leo's gone. It's too much for Annabeth to take in all at once. She cries, her usually strong foundation crumbling to the core.

"Annabeth?" Thalia whispers, encircling the daughter of Athena into a comforting hug. Annabeth isn't too sure who's on border patrol but before she can realize it a conch horn sounds and she's suddenly surrounded by people, most of them asking what happened. Annabeth's too numb to respond.

**Camp Half-Blood—August 9**

The next morning everyone is called to the amphitheater. There Annabeth tells them everything that had happened on the Princess Andromeda and her dream, leaving out her argument with Poseidon. Afterwards she sits down allowing Nico and Thalia to share their nightmare about New Jersey and the evil event that had taken place on Mount Othrys.

Beside her, Murphy, Malcolm, Jason, Rafael, and Piper sit, all of them depressed over Leo's death. They'd known Leo since he was eleven, the oldest in their small group. They were there when Leo had accidentally burned down the West Woods during a game of Capture Flag. They were present at the Council of Cloven Elders, the day Leo was banished from Camp Half-Blood. They were the last ones to see Leo disappear from Half-Blood Hill. Years they'd gone without their best friend. To have him back then taken away again… words can't describe the feeling.

The small meeting finishes. Everyone stands silently, walking away in two's and three's. Chiron gallops over to Annabeth, a forlorn look on his face, "My dear, I realize how difficult a time this is for you but… I have called for a war council. I would appreciate it if you would attend."

She nods. He sighs, making a move to turn away.

"There's one more thing, you need to know," she says. "When I spoke with Poseidon, he said to tell you it's time for us to know the whole prophecy."

Chiron's shoulders sag, "I've dreaded this day. Very well Annabeth, I will show you the truth. All of _it._ Rachel will escort you to the attic."

Four flights up, the stairs ends under a green trap door.

Chiron looks at it wearily, "You know where it is," he tells Rachel. "Bring it down, please."

She nods, turning to Thalia, Nico and Annabeth, "Come on."

Rachel pulls the cord. The door swings down, a wooden ladder clattering into place. Annabeth cringes, the warm air from above smelling like mildew and rotten wood. One at a time they climb at the ladder.

The attic is filled with Greek hero junk: armor stands covered in cobwebs; shields pitted with rust; old leather steamer trunks plastered with stickers saying ITHAKA, CIRCE'S ISLE, and LAND OF THE AMAZONS. There's a long table stacked with glass jars filled with pickled _things_—severed hairy claws, huge yellow eyes, various other parts of monsters. There's a dusty mounted trophy on the wall looking like a giant snake's head, but with horns and a full set of shark's teeth. The plaque read, HYDRA HEAD #1, WOODSTOCK, N.Y., 1969.

On another table sat a pair of fuzzy dice, the bronze plaque reading: STOLEN FROM CHRYSAOR'S HONDA CIVIC, BY GUS, SON OF HERMES, 1988.

Thalia makes a move to touch it but Rachel smacks her hand away, scowling. She crosses the room, heading towards the small bay window. Under it a large bookshelf sits, old scrolls poking out from its shelves. Rachel grabs a small parchment from the top shelf before ushering everyone else out of the attic.

The senior counselors gather around the Ping-Pong table. For some reason the rec room had become the camp's informal headquarters for war councils. Although when Annabeth, Nico, Thalia and Rachel walk in, it looks more like a shouting match.

Rafael is still in full battle gear his electric spear strapped to his back and his boar-shaped helmet under one arm.

He's in the midst of yelling at Michael Yew, the head counselor for Apollo. He stands four feet six, with another two feet of attitude. Kind of funny considering Rafael is at least a foot taller than him.

"It's _our_ loot!" he yells, standing on his tiptoes so he can get in Rafael's face. "If you don't like it, you can kiss my quiver!"

Around the table, people try not to laugh—the Stoll brothers, Pollux from the Dionysus cabin, Miranda Gardiner from Demeter. Even Jake Mason, the counselor from Hephaestus, manages a faint smile. Only Piper doesn't pay any attention. She sits on Rafael's right, staring vacantly at the Ping-Pong net. Her eyes are red and puffy from all the crying she's done. A cup of hot chocolate sits untouched in front of her. It seems unfair she has to be here listening to Rafael and Michael's argument. Especially over something stupid such as loot after they'd just lost Leo.

Thalia steps in between them, a hand on each of their chest, "Okay guys, what's going on?"

Rafael glowers at her, "Tell Michael not to be a selfish bitch."

"Oh, that's perfect, coming from you," Michael retorts.

"The only reason I'm here is to support Piper!" Rafael shouts. "Otherwise I'd be back in my cabin."

"What are you talking about?" she demands.

Pollux clears his throat, "Rafael refuses to speak to any of us until his issue is resolved. He hasn't spoken for three days."

"It's been wonderful," Murphy says wistfully.

Rafael glares at her, "Why are you even here? This meeting is for counselors only and last I checked you're a daughter of Aeolus."

Her eyes darken in anger. For a moment, everyone seems to remember exactly who Rafael's talking to. Murphy's not exactly the sanest person in camp, considering her mother's in a mental hospital and her father takes being bipolar to an entirely different level.

But much to their surprise, Murphy remains calm. "And that's exactly why were in this war in the first place. You Olympian kids thinking you're so great. That's why most of the minor gods are on the Titan's side. That's why most of her friends are fighting for the opposite side."

Everyone looks away. Just then Chiron walks in only to be ambushed by Rafael's brutal gaze, "You, you're in charge right? Does my cabin get what we want or not?"

Chiron shuffles his hooves. "As I've already explained, Michael is correct. Apollo's cabin has the best claim. Besides, we have more important matters—"

"Sure," Rafael snaps. "Always more important matters than what Ares needs. We're just supposed to show up and fight when you need us, and not complain!"

"That would be nice," Travis and Connor Stoll mutter in unison.

Rafael grips the knife strapped to his thigh, "Maybe I should ask Mr. D—"

"As you know," Chiron interjects his tone slightly angry now, "our director, Dionysus, is busy with the war. He can't be bothered with this."

"I see," Rafael murmurs. "And the senior counselors? Are _any_ of you going to side with me?"

Nobody's smiling now. None of them meet Rafael's eyes.

"Fine," he turns to Piper. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get into this when we've just lost ... Anyway, I apologize. To _you._ Nobody else."

Piper doesn't seem to register his words. Rafael throws his knife on the Ping-Pong table, "All of you can fight this war without Ares. Until I get the satisfaction, no one in my cabin is lifting a finger to help. Have fun _dying_."

The counselors are too stunned to say anything as Rafael storms out the room.

Michael Yew scoffs, "Good riddance."

"Are you kidding?" Miranda Gardiner protests. "This is a disaster!"

"He can't be serious," Travis says. "Can he?"

Chiron sighs, "His pride has been wounded. He'll calm down eventually." Chiron doesn't sound too convinced. "Now," he continues, "if you please, counselors. Rachel and the other have brought something I think you should hear. The Great Prophecy, if you please."

Rachel hands the parchment, to Thalia who resumes uncurling it. She clears her throat, wondering why she has to read this.

_"__Three children__of the eldest dogs..."_

They manage to crack a smile.

"Gods, Thalia," Annabeth interrupts. "Not dogs."

"I'm dyslexic Annabeth," Thalia says. "Get used to it."

_"__Three children of the eldest gods__... shall reach twenty one against all odds..."_

Thalia hesitates, staring at the next lines.

_"And see the world in endless sleep,_

_A hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap."_

She frowns, squinting her eyes. "Annabeth," Thalia whines.

The daughter of Athena rolls her eyes, grabbing the parchment.

_"A single choice shall end his days,_

_Olympus to preserve or raze."_

The room is silent. Finally Connor Stoll says, "Raise is good, isn't it?"

"Not _raise,_" Annabeth says, her voice is hollow. "R-a-z-e means _destroy, _obliterate, annihilate. Turn to rubble."

"Got it," Thalia snaps. "Thanks Webster."

Everybody glances at her with concern, or pity, some gazes even a little fearful. She hated it when peopled looked at her that way. The last thing Thalia Grace needs is pity. But the gaze that unnerves Thalia the most is Chiron's. The centaur's three thousand years old, seeing hundreds of heroes die over the years. He doesn't exactly like it but he's sure as hell is used to it. Chiron knows better than to try and reassure her or Nico.

"Let's move on," Annabeth says tightly, clearly uncomfortable. "We've got other problems. We've got a spy."

Michael Yew scowls, "A spy?"

She tells them what happened on the _Princess Andromeda_; how Terra knew they were coming, how she'd shown Annabeth the silver scythe pendant she'd used to communicate with someone at camp.

"Well," Jason says awkwardly, "we've suspected there might a spy for years, right? Somebody kept passing information to the Titans. I mean, we all have friends who've transferred to the _other_ side. It could be anyone of us."

He shifts uneasily. Piper and Malcolm look away as if slightly queasy.

"Someone who isn't exactly loyal to the Olympians," Travis Stoll murmurs, casting Murphy a quick glare.

She clenches her first, "Are you trying to stay something _Stoll_?"

"I don't know, am I?" he snaps, jumping up from his seat like a madman.

"I DON'T KNOW!" she screams all of a sudden, standing on the table. "ARE YOU?

"Stop!" Malcom orders, banging his first on the table, hard enough to spill Piper's hot chocolate. "Leo's dead and Percy's just been possessed by Kronos. This is the time you pick to argue like a bunch of little kids?"

Everyone stares at the hot chocolate trickling off the Ping-Pong table, all of them ashamed. Piper rests her head on the table, beginning to sob again. Murphy swallows her anger, jumping down from the table to comfort her friend.

"He's right," Thalia says finally. "Accusing each other doesn't help us. We need to keep our eyes open for a scythe charm. If Terra has one, the spy probably does too."

Michael Yew grunts, "We need to find this spy before we plan our next operation. Blowing up the _Princess Andromeda_ won't stop their army forever."

"No indeed," Chiron says. "In fact their next assault is already on the way."

Annabeth grimaces, "You mean the 'bigger threat' Poseidon mentioned?"

He nods.

"Tell me," she demands.

Chiron picks up a bronze goblet from the snack table. He tosses water onto the hot plate where they usually melted nacho cheese. Steam billows up, making a rainbow in the fluorescent lights. Chiron fishes a golden drachma out of his pouch, tossing it through the mist, "O Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, show us the threat."

The mist shimmers. Thalia and Nico take note of the familiar image of a smoldering volcano—Mount St. Helens. They watch as the side of the mountain explodes; fire, ash, and lava rolling out. They hear a newscaster's voice, _"_—_even larger than last month's eruption, and geologists warn that the mountain may not be done."_

The mountain collapses inward tearing itself apart. An enormous form rises out of the smoke and lava like it's emerging from a manhole. Annabeth prays the Mist can keep the humans from seeing this clearly for what they would've seen would cause panic and riots across the entire United States.

The giant is larger than anything Annabeth, Thalia, or Nico ever encountered. Even their demigod eyes couldn't make out its exact form through the ash and fire. It's a vaguely humanoid shape, so huge it can use the Chrysler Building as a baseball bat. The mountain shakes with a horrible rumbling, as if the monster's laughing; enjoying its new found freedom.

"It's him," Annabeth says. "Typhon."

Murphy looks at her, "No Annabeth, that's our huge friend, Cuddles! He's just stopping by to wish us luck before the war!"

Chiron ignores her, nodding, "The most horrible monster of all, the biggest single threat the gods have ever faced. He has been freed from under the mountain at last. But this scene is from two days ago. _Here_ is what is happening today."

Chiron waves his hand, the image changing. They see a bank of storm clouds rolling across the Midwest plains. Lightning flickers, lines of tornadoes destroying everything in their path. Houses, trailers, cars… all tossed around like Matchbox toys.

_"Monumental floods,"_ an announcer says. _"Five states declared disaster areas as the freak storm system sweeps east, continuing its path of destruction."_

The cameras zoom in on a column of storm bearing down on some Midwest city. Annabeth's too stunned to tell which one. Inside the storm she could see the giant, small glimpses of his true form: a smoky arm, a dark clawed hand the size of a city block. His angry roar rolls across the plains like a nuclear blast. Other smaller forms dart through the clouds, circling the monster. Annabeth sees flashes of light, the giant trying to swat them away. Annabeth thinking she's seen a golden chariot diving into the blackness. Another figure appears, some kind of huge bird—a monstrous owl—swooping in to attack the giant.

"Mother?" Annabeth says in surprise.

"No it's just another monstrous giant owl," Malcom mutters sarcastically. "They just _love_ attacking Titans."

She rolls her eyes at Malcolm's smirk. His attempt at easing the room's tension fails.

"Yes, Annabeth," Chiron says. "They have been fighting him for days now, trying to slow him down. But Typhon is marching forward towards New York. Towards Olympus."

Nico grimaces, "How long until he gets here?"

"Unless the gods can stop him? Perhaps a little more than a week. Most of the Olympians are there... except your father, who refuses to leave the Underworld. And there's Poseidon of course, off fighting his own war."

"Then who's guarding Olympus?" Thalia asks.

Connor Stoll shakes his head, "If Typhon gets to New York, it won't matter who's guarding what."

Annabeth thinks back to what Nyx said on the ship: _I would love to see the terror in your eyes when you realize how we will destroy Olympus._

"It's a trick," Annabeth says. "We have to warn the gods. Something else is going to happen."

Chiron looks at her gravely, "Something worse than Typhon? I hope not."

"We have to defend the city," she insists. "Kronos has another attack planned."

"He did," Travis Stoll reminds her. "But you sunk his ship."

Everyone's looking at her now. She knows they're thriving for good news; they want to believe that at least Annabeth has given them a little bit of hope.

Thalia and Nico glance at her, thinking the same thing. What if the _Princess Andromeda_ was a ploy? What if Kronos _let_ them blow up the ship just so Camp Half-Blood would lower its guard?

But Annabeth wouldn't say that in front of Piper. Her childhood best friend sacrificed his life for that mission just to realize it was all for nothing.

"Maybe you're right," she mumbles, lying to everyone and herself.

Annabeth tries to imagine how things can get worse. The gods are in the Midwest fighting a huge monster that had almost defeated them once before. Poseidon is under siege, losing a war against the sea Titan Oceanus. Kronos is still out there somewhere, in control of Percy's body. Olympus is virtually undefended. The demigods of Camp Half-Blood have a spy in their midst.

And, according to the Great Prophecy, someone—Thalia or Nico, possibly even Percy— is going to die when they turn twenty one which just so happens to be in nine days, the exact same time Typhon is supposed to hit New York.

"Well," Chiron says, interrupting her thoughts. "I think that's enough for one night."

He waves his hand and the steam dissipates, the stormy battle between Typhon and the gods disappearing.

"That's an understatement," Thalia retorts. With that the war council is adjourned.

On their way to lunch Annabeth and Thalia cross the commons area. Just then a fight breaks out between the Ares and Apollo cabins. Some Apollo campers armed with firebombs fly over the Ares cabin in a chariot pulled by two Pegasi.

Honestly, Thalia wasn't present on the night they'd captured the chariot in a raid in Philadelphia. She was off probably getting high with Mr. D (which was actually pretty fun until the police came and arrested her). That meant she'd never seen the chariot before, but now… its looks like a pretty sweet ride. Not something worth fighting over in the middle of freakin' war, but still.

Soon, the roof of the Ares cabin is burning. Naiads from the canoe lake rush over to blow water on it. Soon the Ares campers call down a curse, turning all the Apollo kids' arrows turns to rubber. The Apollo kids keep shooting at the Ares kids, only to have the arrows bounce off.

Two archers run by, being chased by an angry Ares kid who starts yelling in poetry: "Curse me, eh? I'll make you pay! I don't want to rhyme all day!"

Annabeth sighs, "Not that again. Last time Apollo cursed a cabin, it took a week for the rhyming couplets to wear off."

Thalia rolls her eyes, "I don't get it. Why are they arguing about this again?"

"Some of Luke's demigods were there with that flying chariot. The Apollo cabin seized it during the battle, but the Ares cabin led the raid. So they've been fighting about who gets to claim it."

They duck as Michael Yew's chariot dive-bombs an Ares camper. The Ares camper tries to stab him, cussing him out in rhyming couplets. He's pretty creative about rhyming them too which impresses Thalia to no end.

"We're fighting for our lives," Annabeth says, "and they're bickering about some stupid chariot."

"They'll get over it," Thalia murmurs. "Rafael will come to his senses eventually."

That afternoon they attend another assembly at the amphitheater. Only this time it's to burn Leo's burial shroud and say their good-byes. Even the Ares and Apollo cabins call a temporary truce to attend.

Leo's shroud is made of metal links alot like chain mail. It melts in the fire turning to golden smoke rising into the sky. As usual the campfire's flames reflect the campers' moods. Today they're low and black.

The crowd dissipates quickly, leaving to their afternoon activities. Only a few stay behind to stare at the dying fire. Piper sits nearby crying, while Rafael and Murphy set aside their differences to comfort her. Malcolm's there with them too, deep in thought.

Annabeth and Nico, go their separate ways, leaving without a word. Thalia stays behind, sitting beside the other four half-bloods, staring into the flames. She'd met Leo in London back in the days when she was pregnant with Alexander and Helen. It'd been a hydra that attacked her in Hyde Park. Usually they didn't go that far away from Western Civilization but whatever the reason; Thalia couldn't handle the creature on her own. Leo was there to help her, burning the creature's neck stumps with his strange fire powers. Ever since they'd forged this strange friendship. He was even there when the twins were born, comforting Thalia the whole way. Leo almost fainted a couple of times too during the whole process but he held up nicely.

Now that Leo was gone… yet another hole had been punched through Thalia's heart. So many people close to her where being lost. Everyone around Thalia would start to disappear. And now, thanks to the Great Prophecy, someone would die. The only thing she had left to hold onto was Nico's promise.

She watches the last sparks from Leo's fire curl into the afternoon sky. Thalia isn't sure how long she sits there, watching the funeral pyre until she feels a small hand on her shoulder. She turns to see Alexander frowning at her.

"Don't be sad mommy," he tells her.

Thalia can't help but smile at him, "I'm not sad anymore."

"You promise?"

"I promise."


	5. Chapter 4

**Manhattan, New York—August 14**

Its nightfall when five white vans pull up to the curb right in front of the Empire State Building. They all say _Delphi Strawberry Service_, the cover name for Camp Half-Blood. Four doors slide open, groups of campers unloading themselves from the van, some green from the long crazy drive here. Annabeth and Thalia climb out of the fifth van which is pretty much loaded with war supplies: swords, medicine, and other necessities.

Annabeth smiles, glad so many of them had decided to come: Pollux, Piper, Murphy, Jason, Malcolm, Kelsey, the Stoll brothers, Michael Yew, Jake Mason, Miranda Gardiner and most of their siblings. Chiron comes out of the van last, his horse half compacted into his magic wheelchair. The Ares cabin is unsurprisingly absent but Annabeth tries not to get too upset about that. Rafael is a stubborn idiot. End of story.

Thalia does a head count: fifty campers in all.

"There's no way we'll be able to win the war you know," Murphy points out, her gaze slightly depressed.

"I know," Annabeth says miserably.

Thalia pats Annabeth on the back, "Not many to fight a war, but it's still the largest group of half-bloods I've ever seen. We're gonna try our best, Annabeth."

Everyone looks around nervously, and Annabeth can sympathize. They're sending out so much demigod aura that every monster in the northeastern United States knows that there all here. Not that it matters anyway.

Annabeth looks at their faces—all these campers she'd gotten to know over the summer—a nagging voice whispers in her mind: _One of them is a spy._

She tries not to dwell on that. Most of these people are her friends and they need each and everyone of them.

Annabeth remembers Terra's evil smile. _You can't count on friends. They will always let you down._

Nico comes up to Thalia dressed in black camouflage his Stygian Iron sword hanging carelessly as his side.

Nico frowns, "What is it?"

"What's what?" Thalia asks.

"You're looking at me funny."

"No I'm not," Thalia says quickly, turning to the rest of her group. Nico rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

Chiron wheels himself up beside them, a solemn look on his face, "I wish you luck Annabeth. May the odds be in our favor."

"Why does it sound like your leaving?" she murmurs.

The old centaur shakes his head, "I make it a point to never visit Olympus unless I am summoned."

A round of protests goes through the crowd of demigod, "But you're our leader!"

He smiles, "I am your trainer and your teacher," Chiron tells the others, "That is not the same as being your leader. I will go, gather what allies I can. It may not be too late to convince my brother centaurs to help. Meanwhile, _you_ called the campers here, Annabeth. Like it or not, _you_ are the leader."

He glances at Thalia and Nico, "With help from these two of course."

The three demigods want to protest. Everyone looks at them expectantly. Annabeth takes a deep breath, "Okay. Let's see if we an audience with Zeus and convince him to defend the city. Rachel's predicted something will happen tonight. Remember, we can't take no for an answer."

Chiron shakes her hand, "You'll do well, Annabeth. Just remember your strengths and beware your weaknesses."

Annabeth nods, attempting to give him a confident smile. "Let's go," she tells the campers.

A security guard sits behind the desk in the lobby, reading a big black book with a flower on the cover. He glances up when they all file in, taking note of their weapons and armor. "School group? We're about to close up."

"We can't really look like a school group in battle armor, can we?" Connor asks from the back of the group.

"No," she says. "Six-hundredth floor."

He studies them with pale blue eyes, his head entirely bald. Annabeth can't tell if he's human or not, but he seems to notice their weapons. Her guess he isn't fooled by the Mist.

"There is no six-hundredth floor," he says this like it's a required line, one he didn't believe. "Move along."

Annabeth leans across the desk, "Fifty demigods attract an awful lot of monsters. You really want us hanging out in your lobby?"

The security guard thinks about it for moment before hitting a buzzer. The security gate swings open, "Make it quick."

"You don't want us going through the metal detectors," Thalia adds.

"Um, no," he agrees. "Elevator on the right. I guess you know the way."

Nico tosses him a golden drachma, all of them heading towards the elevators.

They decide to make two trips to get everybody up in the elevator. Annabeth and Thalia go with the first group. Different elevator music is playing this time since their last visit—that old disco song "Stayin' Alive." A terrifying image flashes through Thalia's mind: Apollo in bell-bottom pants and a slinky silk shirt. She's the first one out when elevator doors finally open.

In front of them, a path of floating stones leads through the clouds up to Mount Olympus, hovering six thousand feet over Manhattan.

Mansions glitter gold and white against the sides of the mountain. Gardens bloom on a hundred terraces. Scented smoke rises from braziers lining the winding streets. Right at the top of the snow-capped crest sits the main palace of the gods. It looks as majestic as ever, but something just seems wrong. That's when Annabeth and Thalia realize the mountain is silent—no music, no voices, no laughter.

The elevator doors open again, Nico and the second group of half-bloods joins them.

They make their way across the sky bridge into the streets of Olympus. The shops are closed, the parks empty. A couple of Muses sit on a bench strumming flaming lyres, but none of them exactly happy. A lone Cyclops sweeps the street with an uprooted oak tree. A minor godling spots them half-bloods from a balcony, ducking inside and closing his shutters.

They pass under a big marble archway, statues of Zeus and Hera on either side. Thalia makes a face at the queen of the gods.

"Look!" Pollux cries, pointing toward the horizon. "What is _that?_"

All of them stop abruptly. Blue lights streak across the evening sky toward Olympus like tiny comets. They seem to come from all over the city, heading straight towards the mountain. As they get closer, they fizzle out. The half-bloods watch them for several minutes before moving on.

"Like infrared scopes," Michael Yew mutters. "We're being targeted."

"Let's get to the palace," Nico says quickly.

No one guards the hall of the gods. The gold-and-silver doors are wide open. Their footsteps echo as they walk into the throne room.

Of course, "room" doesn't cover it. The place is the size of Madison Square Garden. High above, the blue ceiling glitters with constellations. Twelve giant empty thrones rest in a U around a hearth.

We walked toward the thrones, and a woman's voice says, "Hello again, Annabeth Chase. You and your friends are welcome."

Hestia sits by the hearth, poking the flames with a stick. She's dressed the same kind of simple brown dress there all used to seeing, only this time Hestia's a grown woman now.

Annabeth bows, "Lady Hestia."

Everyone follows her example.

Hestia regards her with red glowing eyes, "If you're looking for the gods they aren't here as you've already guessed. May I take a message?"

"Actually I'll be taking that message," a man's voice says.

A god shimmers into existence besides to Hestia. He looks about twenty-five, with curly salt-and-pepper hair and elfish features. He's dressed in a military pilot's flight suit, with tiny bird's wings fluttering on his helmet and his black leather boots. In the crook of his arm is a long staff entwined with two living serpents.

"I will leave you now," Hestia says, bows to the aviator, disappearing into smoke. They all can understand why she's so anxious to go. Hermes, the God of Messengers, does not look happy.

"Hello, Annabeth, Nico… _Thalia,_" His brow furrows at the daughter of Zeus as though he's somehow annoyed with her at the moment. Then again, she is the mother of his son's children, the same son she'd thrown into the Lethe.

They bow awkwardly, "Lord Hermes."

_Oh, sure,_ one of the snakes says in their minds. _Don't say hi to_ us. _We're just reptiles._

_George,_ the other snake scolds. _Be polite._

"George," Annabeth greets. "Martha."

_Do you happen to have a rat on you?_ George asks. _Fighting all day's made me hungry._

_George, stop it,_ Martha says. _They're busy!_

_Too busy for rats?_ George says. _That's just sad._

As much as Thalia wants to reply, she decides not to get in an argument with one of Hermes' snakes.

"Um, Hermes," Annabeth says. "We need to talk to Zeus. It's important."

Hermes's eyes are steely cold, "I am his messenger. May I take a message?"

Behind them, the other demigods shift restlessly. Annabeth knows this isn't going as planned. Maybe if she tries to speak with Hermes in private...

"You guys," Annabeth says. "Why don't you do a sweep of the city? Check the defenses. See who's left in Olympus. Meet Thalia, Nico and me back here in thirty minutes."

Piper frowns, "But—"

"That's a good idea," Nico says. "Connor and Travis, you two lead."

The Stolls seem to like that, getting handed an important responsibility right in front of their dad. They usually never lead anything except toilet paper raids.

"We're on it!" Travis says. They herd the others out of the throne room, leaving the three demigods behind with Hermes.

"My lord," Annabeth says. "Kronos is going to attack New York. You must suspect that. My _mother_ must have foreseen it."

"Your mother," Hermes grumbles, scratching his back with his caduceus.

_Ow, ow, ow_, George and Martha mutter.

"Don't get me started on your mother, young lady. She's the reason I'm here at all. Zeus didn't want any of us to leave the front line. But your mother kept pestering him nonstop, 'It's a trap, it's a diversion, blah, blah, blah.' She wanted to come back herself, but Zeus was not going to let his number one strategist leave his side while we're battling Typhon. And so naturally he sent _me_ to talk to you."

"But it _is_ a trap!" Annabeth insists. "Is Zeus blind?"

Thunder rolls through the sky. Annabeth and Nico look expectantly at Thalia.

She shakes her head, "That wasn't me."

"I'd watch the comments, girl," Hermes warns. "Zeus is not blind _or_ deaf. He has not left Olympus completely undefended."

"But there are these blue lights—"

"Yes, yes. I saw them. Some mischief by your insufferable goddess Hecate, I'd wager, but you may have noticed they aren't doing any damage. Olympus has strong magical wards. Besides, Aeolus, the King of the Winds, has sent his most powerful minions to guard the citadel. No one save the gods can approach Olympus from the air. They would be knocked out of the sky."

Nico raises his hand, "Um... what about that materializing/teleporting thing you guys do?"

"That's a form of air travel too, Nico," Thalia murmurs.

"Very fast, but the wind gods are faster," Hermes says. "No, if Kronos wants Olympus, he'll have to march through the entire city with his army and take the elevators! Can you see him doing this?"

Hermes makes it sound pretty ridiculous—hordes of monsters going up in the elevator twenty at a time, listening to "Stayin' Alive."

"Maybe just a few of you could come back," Nico suggests.

Hermes shakes his head impatiently, "Nico Di Angelo, you don't understand. Typhon is our greatest enemy."

"I thought that was Kronos," Thalia says.

The god's eyes glow, "No, Thalia. In the old days, Olympus was almost overthrown by Typhon. He is husband of Echidna and the father of all monsters. We can never forget how close he came to destroying us all; how he humiliated us! We were more powerful back in the old days. Now we can expect no help from Poseidon because he's fighting his own war. Hades sits in his realm and does nothing, and Demeter and Persephone follow his lead. It will take all our remaining power to oppose the storm giant. We can't divide our forces, nor wait until he gets to New York. We have to battle him now. And we're making progress."

"Progress?" Annabeth says. "He nearly destroyed St. Louis."

"Yes," Hermes admits. "But he destroyed only _half_ of Kentucky. He's slowing down. Losing power."

Annabeth doesn't argue, seeing how it sounds like Hermes is trying to convince himself which is never a good sign.

"Please, Hermes," Annabeth says. "You said my mother wanted to come. Did she give you any messages for us?"

"Messages," he mutters. "'It'll be a great job,' they told me. 'Not much work. Lots of worshippers.' Hmph. Nobody cares what _I_ have to say. It's always about other people's _messages._"

_Rodents,_ George muses. _I'm in it for the rodents._

_Shhh,_ Martha scolds. We _care what Hermes has to say. Don't we, George?_

_Oh, absolutely. Can we go back to the battle now? I want to do laser mode again. That's fun._

"Quiet, both of you," Hermes grumbles.

The god looks at Annabeth, who's doing her big-pleading-gray-eyes thing.

"Bah," Hermes says. "Your mother said to warn you that you are on your own. You must hold Manhattan without the help of the gods. As if I didn't know that. Why they pay her to be the _wisdom_ goddess, I'm not sure."

"Anything else?" Annabeth asks.

"She said you should try plan twenty-three. She said you would know what that meant."

Annabeth's face pales, "But…"

Thalia rolls her eyes, "Go on."

"Last thing," Hermes murmurs. "She said to tell Nico: 'Remember the rivers.' When the time came she said you'd know who to tell that to or something."

"Thanks, Lord Hermes," Thalia says. "And I'm… I'm sorry about Luke."

Hermes expression hardens, "Doesn't make a difference now I suppose. He's not dead and he hasn't ended up like Percy."

They all flinch at this.

"I will leave you now," he mumbles. "I have a war to fight."

He begins to glow and they all turn away.

_Good luck,_ Martha the snake whispers.

Before they're gone.

"That was interesting," Thalia grumbles. "Very fun, don't you think Nico?"

"So much fun Thalia," he says sarcastically.

Just then the Stoll brothers run in to the throne room.

"You need to see this," Connor says. _"Now."_

The blue lights in the sky are gone, so at first Annabeth doesn't understand what the problem is.

The other campers gather in a small park at the edge of the mountain. They're clustered at the guardrail, looking down at Manhattan. The railing is lined with those tourist binoculars, where you can deposit one golden drachma and see the city. Campers occupy every single one.

Thalia looks down at the city. She can see almost everything from there—the East River and the Hudson River carving the shape of Manhattan, the grid of streets, the lights of skyscrapers, the dark stretch of Central Park in the north. Everything looks normal, but something's wrong. She can feel it in her bones.

"I don't... hear anything," Annabeth says.

That's the problem.

Even from this height, everyone should hear the noise of the city—millions of people bustling around, thousands of cars and machines—the hum of a huge metropolis. You don't bother to think about it when you live in New York, but it's always there. Even in the dead of night, New York is never silent.

But it is now.

Nico pushes Michael Yew away from the binoculars to take a look.

In the streets below, traffic has stopped. Pedestrians are lying on the sidewalks, or curled up in doorways. There's no sign of violence, no wrecks, nothing like that. It's as if all the people in New York decided to stop whatever they were doing and pass out.

"Are they dead?" Piper asks in astonishment.

A line from the prophecy rings in Thalia ears: _And see the world in endless sleep._

"Not dead," Annabeth says. "The entire island of Manhattan has been put to sleep. The invasion is starting."

**Camp Half-Blood—August 14**

When Alexander says Bunker 9 sucks. It pretty much... well, sucks. He thinks it's unfair, how everyone else gets to fight a war while he's stuck here like a helpless little baby.

"I'm almost six!" he complains to Argus. "I'm old enough!"

The hundred eyed man does what he always does: rolls his eyes. There's nothing interesting about Bunker 9 anyway, just any old aircraft hangar-sized workshop filled with tools and weapons, schematics, a map of the camp, and various machine design plans. Alexander simply frowns at it, knowing Atalanta used to love it here.

_She's not dead yet,_ he thinks silently to himself. _Unlike your sister._

The thought clouds his mood. Sometimes he thinks back to that day, how things would be different if Alexander had saved his sister from that hellhound or if the monster had taken his life instead of hers.

"Can I just—"

Argus cuts him off with a sharp look, shaking his head vigorously. Alexander scowls, mumbling to himself. He sits away from the other children, sulking in his own little corner.


	6. Chapter 5

Annabeth rummages in the back of the war supply van. She brings out a bronze shield, handing it to Thalia. It looks pretty much like standard issue—the same kind of round shield the kids always use in Capture the Flag. But when Annabeth sets it on the ground, the reflection on the polished metal changes from sky and buildings to the Statue of Liberty—which isn't anywhere close to them.

"Whoa," Thalia says. "A video shield?"

"One of Daedalus' ideas," Annabeth says. "I made Leo make this before—" she glances at Piper. "Um, anyway, the shield bends sunlight or moonlight from anywhere in the world to create a reflection. You can literally see any target under the sun or moon, as long as natural light is touching it. Look."

Campers crowd around as Annabeth concentrates on the shield. The image zooms and spins at first, Thalia getting motion sickness just watching it. They're in the Central Park Zoo, then zooming down East 60th, past Bloomingdale's, then turning on Third Avenue.

Annabeth passes her hand in front of the shield, and another scene popped up: FDR Drive, looking across the river at Lighthouse Park.

"This will let us see what's going on across the city," she says. "We need to get to work. Fast."

Pollux crouches next to a sleeping policeman. "I don't get it. Why didn't we fall asleep too? Why just the mortals?"

"This is a huge spell," Piper says. "The bigger the spell, the easier it is to resist. If you want to put to sleep millions of mortals, you've got to cast a very thin layer of magic. Sleeping demigods is much harder."

Thalia stares at her, "When did you learn so much about magic?"

Piper's face reddens, "I don't spend _all_ my time on my wardrobe."

"Thalia, Nico," Annabeth calls, still looking at the shield. "You'd better see this."

The bronze image shows the Long Island Sound near La Guardia. A fleet of a dozen speedboats race through the dark water towards Manhattan. Each boat is packed with demigods in full Greek armor. At the back of the lead boat, a purple banner emblazoned with a black scythe flaps in the night wind. Annabeth has never seen that design before, but it wasn't hard to figure out: the battle flag of Kronos.

Annabeth shifts the scene south to the harbor. A Staten Island Ferry is plowing through the waves near Ellis Island. The deck is crowded with _dracanae_ and a whole pack of hellhounds. Swimming in front of the ship is a pod of marine mammals. Telekhines.

The scene shifts again, the Jersey shore (the actual shore, not the show), right at the entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel. A hundred assorted monsters march past the lanes of stopped traffic: giants with clubs, rogue Cyclopes, a few fire-spitting dragons, and just to rub it in, a World War II-era Sherman tank, pushing cars out of its way as it rumbles into the tunnel.

"What's happening with the mortals outside Manhattan?" Nico says. "Is the whole state asleep?"

Annabeth frowns, "I don't think so, but it's strange. As far as I can tell from these pictures, Manhattan is totally asleep. Then there's like a fifty-mile radius around the island where time is running really, really slow. The closer you get to Manhattan, the slower it is."

She shows them another scene—a New Jersey highway. It's a Saturday evening, so the traffic isn't as bad. The drivers look awake, but the cars are moving at about one mile per hour. Birds fly overhead in slow motion.

"Kronos," Thalia says. "He's slowing time."

"Hecate might be helping," Miranda Gardiner tells them. "Look how the cars are all veering away from the Manhattan exits, like they're getting a subconscious message to turn back."

"I don't know," Annabeth says, frustrated. "But somehow they've surrounded Manhattan in layers of magic. The outside world might not even realize something is wrong. Any mortals coming toward Manhattan will slow down so much they won't know what's happening."

"Like flies in amber," Jake Mason murmurs.

Annabeth nods, "We shouldn't expect any help coming in."

Thalia turns to the others. They look stunned and scared, to which she can't blame them. The shield had shown them at least three hundred enemies on the way. They only have fifty demigods and they're alone.

"All right," she says. "We're going to hold Manhattan."

Piper tugs at her armor, "Um, Thalia, Manhattan is huge."

"We _are_ going to hold it," she tells them. "We have to."

"She's right," Nico says. "The gods of the winds should keep Kronos's forces away from Olympus by air, so he'll try a ground assault. We have to cut off the entrances to the island."

"They have boats," Michael Yew points out.

An electric tingle runs down Nico's back. Suddenly he understands Athena's advice: _Remember the rivers._

"I'll take care of the boats," Nico says.

Michael frowns. "How?"

"Just leave it to me," he murmurs. "We need to guard the bridges and tunnels. Let's assume they'll try a midtown or downtown assault, at least on their first try. That would be the most direct way to the Empire State Building.

Annabeth nods, "Michael, take Apollo's cabin to the Williamsburg Bridge. Miranda, Demeter's cabin takes the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel. Grow thorn bushes and poison ivy in the tunnel. Do whatever you have to do, but keep them out of there! Conner, take half of Hermes cabin and cover the Manhattan Bridge. Travis, you take the other half and cover the Brooklyn Bridge. And no stopping for looting or pillaging!"

"Awwww!" the whole Hermes cabin complains.

"Piper," Nico says, "Take the Aphrodite crew to the Queens-Midtown Tunnel."

"Oh my gods," one of her sisters says. "Fifth Avenue is _so_ on our way! We could accessorize, and monsters, like, _totally_ hate the smell of Givenchy."

"No delays," he says sternly. "Well... the perfume thing, if you think it'll work."

Six Aphrodite girls kiss him on the cheek in excitement.

"All right, enough!" Nico closes his eyes, trying to think of what he's forgotten. "The Holland Tunnel. Jake, take the Hephaestus cabin there. Use Greek fire, set traps. Whatever you've got."

He grins, "Gladly. We've got a score to settle. For Valdez!"

The whole cabin roars in approval.

"The 59th Street Bridge," Annabeth murmurs. "Rafael—"

She falters. Rafael isn't there. The whole Ares cabin, curse them, is still sitting back at camp.

"We'll take that," Malcom says stepping in to save his sister from an embarrassing silence. He turns to his siblings. "Kelsey, take the Athena cabin there and hold position."

"You've got it."

"That's good," Annabeth says. "Keep in touch with cell phones."

"We don't have cell phones," Piper protests.

Thalia reaches down, picking up some snoring lady's BlackBerry, and tossing it to Piper. "You do now. You all know Annabeth's number, right? If you need us, pick up a random phone and call us. Use it once, drop it, then borrow another one if you have to. That should make it harder for the monsters to zero in on you."

Everyone grins as though they like this idea. Apparently Hermes cabin isn't the only ones who like to steal things.

Murphy clears her throat, "Uh, if we find a really nice phone—"

"No, you can't keep it," Annabeth snaps.

"Man," she and Stoll Brothers grumble in unison.

"Hold it, guys," Jake Mason says. "You forgot the Lincoln Tunnel."

Annabeth bites back a curse. Jake is right, unfortunately. A Sherman tank and a hundred monsters are marching through that tunnel right now, and she has the forces positioned elsewhere.

A girl's voice called from across the street: "I am sure thou can leave that to us."

Nico smiles like he's never been happier to hear anyone in his life before_._ A band of thirty adolescent girls cross Fifth Avenue. They wear white shirts, silvery camouflage pants, and combat boots. All of them have swords at their sides, quivers on their backs, and bows at the ready. A pack of white timber wolves crowds around them, with small falcons on many of the girls' arms.

The girl in the lead wears a proud, regal expression, one Nico can never forget, "Zoe Nightshade."

The girl at Zoe's side smiles, "The Hunters of Artemis, reporting for duty little brother."

Nico rolls his eyes at her, "Nice to see you too Bianca."

There are hugs and greetings all around... or at least Bianca and Zoe are friendly. The other Hunters aren't exactly comfortable around campers, especially boys, but they don't shoot anyone, which for them is a pretty warm welcome.

"Where have you been the last year?" Nico asks Bianca. "You promised to visit! And now you've got like twice as many Hunters now!"

She laughs, "Long, _long_ story. I bet my adventures were more dangerous than yours, Nico."

"Complete lie," he smiles. "I got arrested three times this year."

"We'll see," she promises. "After this, all of us: cheeseburgers and fries at that hotel on West 57th."

"Le Parker Meridien," he says impressed. "You're on. And Zoe, thanks."

The daughter of Atlas shrugs, "It is no problem at all. Hunters, move out!"

"Wait," Nico says quickly. "I need to borrow Thalassa."

"_Exorior,"_ Zoe says to her Hunters. A girl, at least fifteen, steps forward. Surprisingly she looks exactly like Percy except for the silver aura coating her tan skin. She glares at Nico suspiciously.

"She speaks Latin," Zoe tells him. "You've met her before so you know how unpredictable she can be. Don't do anything rash when it comes to her."

"I know, I know," Nico murmurs impatiently.

_"Vade cum illo. Habeat et faciat, quod petit," _Zoe tells Thalassa._ "Amicus sic eum tracta similis."_

_Go with him. Behave, and do as he asks. He is a friend so treat him like one._

The girl mumbles something under her breath before nodding.

The Hunters take off down the avenue, followed by their wolves and falcons. Nico smirks, knowing the Lincoln Tunnel is safe for now.

"Thank the gods," Annabeth murmurs. "But if we don't blockade the rivers from those boats, guarding the bridges and tunnels will be pointless."

"You're right," Nico agrees.

Thalia nods, "Who is she?"

"Thalassa, daughter of Poseidon or Neptune as she likes to go by. A former priestess for the temple of Neptune. She had a… bad relationship with Julius Caesar. Zoe and her Hunters managed to save her before he could kill the girl. Trying to escape him, she almost died in an explosion, had temporary amnesia."

"Which is way she's distrustful of men…"

"…except for me. Or rather, I'm the only one who hasn't posed as a threat yet. She's loyal through so she'll be able to get the job done."

Annabeth looks at the campers, all of them grim and determined. She tries not to feel like this is the last time she'll see them all together.

"You're the greatest heroes of this millennium," Annabeth tells them. "It doesn't matter how many monsters come at you. Fight bravely, and we will win." She raises her knife and shouts, "FOR OLYMPUS!"

They shout in response, fifty voices echoing off the buildings of Midtown. For a moment it sounds brave, but it soon dies down quickly in the silence of ten million sleeping New Yorkers.

"Good luck," Nico tells them, before disappearing into a shadow with Thalassa.

They land outside Battery Park, at the lower tip of Manhattan where the Hudson and East Rivers come together and empty into the bay.

"Hoc est?" Thalassa murmurs. _This is it?_

Nico nods, "Lorem ipsum..." _Do you have…_

"...pupa a harena? Etiam." _…a sand dollar? Yes._

"Bonum. Volo vos fortuna." _Good. I wish you luck._

"Crede mihi, non est indigens." _Believe me, I won't be needing it._

She clambers down the shoreline diving into the water. Flinching against the murkiness, she sinks to the bottom, trying to find the best place where the two rivers' currents seemed equal—where they meet to form the bay. It's the best place to get their attention.

Thalassa smiles, "Sic polluta es impeditis animis exaudivi te ostendere facies vestras. Estne verum?

_I heard you spirits are so polluted you're embarrassed to show your faces. Is that true?_

A cold current ripples through the bay, churning up plumes of garbage and silt.

"Magis Eurus audivi flumen toxic," she continues, "Hudson, sed peius olet. An e converso?

_I heard the East River is more toxic but the Hudson smells worse. Or is it the other way around?_

The water shimmers. Something powerful and angry is watching her now. She could sense its presence... or maybe _two_ presences.

Sure enough, two giant forms appear in front of Thalassa. At first they're just dark brown columns of silt, denser than the water around them. Then they grow legs, arms, and scowling faces.

The creature on the left looks disturbingly like a telekhine. His face is wolfish, his body vaguely like a seal's—sleek black with flipper hands and feet. His eyes glow radiation green.

The god on the right is more humanoid. He's dressed in rags and seaweed, with a chain-mail coat made of bottle caps and old plastic six-pack holders. His face is blotchy with algae, his beard overgrown. His deep blue eyes burn with anger.

The seal, who has to be the god of the East River, says, "Tu es experiens impetro occidit, virgo? An iustus stolidus?" _Are you trying to get yourself killed, girl? Or are you just extra stupid?_

The bearded spirit of the Hudson scoffs, "You're the expert on stupid, East."

"Watch it, Hudson," East growls. "Stay on your side of the island and mind your business."

"Or what? You'll throw another garbage barge at me?"

Thalassa maybe unsure about what they're talking about but as the two river gods begin to float towards each other, ready to fight, she steps in the middle.

"Tene!" she yells. "Donec eu lectus a nulla!" _Hold it, we've got bigger problems!_

"De jure puellae," East snarls. "Nunc et interficiam eam, tunc puteus invicem pugnent." _The girl's right. Let's both kill her, then we'll fight each other._

"Proin bonum," Hudson says. _Sounds good._

Before Thalassa can protest, a thousand scraps of garbage surges off the bottom and flies straight at her from both directions: broken glass, rocks, cans, tires.

The water in front of her thickens into a shield. The debris bounced off harmlessly. Only one piece gets through—a big chunk of glass aiming for her chest. She dodges it quickly.

The two river gods stare at her.

"Neptuni filia?" East asks. _Daughter of Neptune?_

Thalassa nods.

"Venator Dianae?" Hudson asks. _Hunter of Diana?_

"Etiam." _Yes._

They both make disgusted sounds.

"Well, that's perfect," Hudson says. "_Now_ how do we kill her?"

"We could tie her to some tree roots," East muses. "And…"

"No you idiot!" Hudson hisses. "As much as I really want to, thanks to the lack of naiads, do you really wanna risk Artemis and Poseidon blasting us to pieces?"

"Sed audite consilium meum!" Thalassa says, clueless to their foreign tongue. "Kronos exercitum hostilem in Manhattan est."

_Listen to me! Kronos's army is invading Manhattan._

"Ne putes hoc possumus probare?" East asks. "Ego sentio ejus meatibus nunc. At illi prope consequat."

_Don't you think we know that? I can feel his boats right now. They're almost across._

"Etiam," Hudson agrees. "Monstra quaedam sordida aquas meas transire mihi quoque."

_Yep. I got some filthy monsters crossing my waters too._

"Ita prohibere," Thalassa snaps. "Obruent eos. Naves eorum defluet." _So stop them. Drown them. Sink their boats._

"Quid?" Hudson grumbles. "Sic Olympus invadere. Quis enim curae?" _Why should we? So the invade Olympus. Who do we care?_

"Quia ego reddam vobis," she takes out the sand dollar hanging from a chain around her neck. _Because I can pay you._

The river gods' eyes widen.

"It's mine!" East says. "Da hic puellae spumae es questus est et promissio non Kronos Aquilo trans Flumen." _Give it here, girl, and I promise none of Kronos's scum are getting across the East River._

"Lorem ipsum," Hudson says. "Quod est pupa arena meis, nisi me vis navibus transire omnes illos Hudson." _Forget that. That sand dollar's mine, unless you want me to let all those ships cross the Hudson._

"Fusce auctor," she breaks the sand dollar in half. A ripple of clean fresh water spreads out from the break, as if all the pollution in the bay is being dissolved. _We'll compromise._

"Vos adepto sulum dimidium," Thalassa says. "In commutatione habeas Kronos omnes copiae a Manhattan." _You each get half. In exchange, you keep all of Kronos's forces away from Manhattan._

"Oh, man," Hudson whimpers, reaching for the sand dollar. "It's been so long since I was clean."

"The power of Poseidon," East River murmurs. "He's a jerk, but he sure knows how to sweep pollution away."

They look at each other, then speak in unison: "Etiam a elit." _It's a deal._

She gives them each a sand-dollar half, which they hold reverently.

"Um et invasores?" Thalassa prompts. _Um, the invaders?_

East flicks his hand, "Ut pellentesque demersae." _They just got sunk._

Hudson snaps his fingers, "Fascis hellhounds accepit iustam lustrum." _Bunch of hellhounds just took a dive._

"Fusce," she says. "Praesent augue." _Thank you. Stay clean._

As she rises towards the surface, East calls out, "Hey, puellae pupa aliquando vos got a harena aut erogare volo habeo aliquantulus jocus, exsisto certus reuertar. Fingerent vivis."

_Hey, girl, any time you got a sand dollar to spend or wanna have a little fun, be sure to come back. Assuming you live._

"The blessing of Artemis," Hudson snorts. "They always think that'll save them, don't they?"

"If only she knew," East agrees. They both laugh, dissolving into the water.

Back on the shore, Nico's talking into a borrowed cell phone, but he hangs up as soon as he spots Thalassa.

"Ut massa," she tells him. "Flumina exaltabitur." _It worked. The rivers are safe._

"Bonum," he says. "Quoniam alius problems. Michael taxi iustum est. Alius exercitus ibat super Williamiburgi Pons. De Apollo amet auxiliis indiget."

_Good, because we've got other problems. Michael Yew just called. Another army is marching over the Williamsburg Bridge. The Apollo cabin needs help._


	7. Chapter 6

Fortunately, Blackjack is on duty.

Nico does his best taxicab whistle, and within a few minutes two dark shapes circle out of the sky. They look like hawks at first, but as they descend closer he can make out the long galloping legs of Pegasai.

Blackjack lands at a trot, his friend Porkpie right behind him. 

"Thanks for coming," Nico tells them. "We need to get to the Williamsburg Bridge."

Blackjack nods vigorously in agreement. Nico and Thalassa hop on quickly.

They see the battle before they're close enough to make out individual fighters. It's well after midnight now, but the bridge is blazing with light. Cars are burning. Arcs of fire stream in from both directions as flaming arrows and spears sail through the air.

They come in for a low pass, seeing as the Apollo campers retreat. They hide behind cars and snipe at the approaching army, setting off explosive arrows and dropping caltrops in the road, building fiery barricades wherever they can, dragging sleeping drivers out of their cars to get them out of harm's way. But the enemy keeps advancing. An entire phalanx of _dracanae_ march in the lead, their shields locked together, spear tips bristling over the top. An occasional arrow connects with their snaky trunks, or a neck, or a chink in their armor, and the unlucky snake woman disintegrates, but most of the Apollo arrows glance harmlessly off their shield wall. About a hundred more monsters march behind them.

Hellhounds leap ahead of the line from time to time. Most are destroyed with arrows, but one gets hold of an Apollo camper and drags him away. Nico doesn't need to see what happens to him. The annoying ring in his ears is still there.

"There!" Nico tells Blackjack as he spots Annabeth and Thalia, both of them gripping on to bloody bows. While the invading legion advances, straight in the middle they shoot at a monster, no other than the famous Minotaur.

From the waist down, he wears the standard Greek battle gear—a kiltlike apron of leather and metal flaps, bronze greaves covering his legs, and tightly wrapped leather sandals. His top is all bull-hair and hide and muscle leading to a head so large he should topple over just from the weight of his horns. He seems large, ten feet tall at least. A double-bladed axe is strapped to his back, but he's far too impatient to use it. As soon as he spots Nico circling overhead, he bellows, picking up a white limousine.

"Blackjack, dive!" Nico yells.

They're at least a hundred feet up, but the limo comes sailing towards them, flipping fender over fender like a two-ton boomerang. Thalassa and Porkpie swerve madly to the left, while Blackjack tucks in his wings and plunges. The limo sails over Nico's head, missing by maybe two inches. It clears the suspension lines of the bridge, falling towards the East River.

Monsters jeer and shout as the Minotaur picks up another car, throwing it at the Corolla Annabeth and Thalia are taking cover behind.

"Move!" Thalia shouts.

They sprint towards an overturned school bus just as the Corolla explodes.

"Drop us behind the lines with the Apollo cabin," Nico tells Blackjack. "Stay in earshot but get out of danger!"

Blackjack swoops down behind the overturned school bus, where a couple campers, Annabeth and Thalia are. Nico leaps off as soon as Blackjack's hooves touch the pavement. Thalassa follows his example. Blackjack and Porkpie nod, soaring into the night sky.

Michael Yew runs up to them. He's pretty much the shortest commando Nico's ever seen (and that's saying something). He has a bandaged cut on his arm, his ferrety face smeared with soot and his quiver almost empty. But for some reason, he's smiling like he's having a great time.

"Glad you could join us," Michael says. "Where are the other reinforcements?"

"For now, we're it," Nico tells him.

"We're dead," he says.

"You still have your flying chariot?" Annabeth asks.

"Nah," Michael says. "Left it at camp. I told Rafael he could have it. Whatever, you know? Not worth fighting about anymore. But he said it was too late. We'd insulted his honor for the last time or some stupid shit like that."

Nico grits his teeth.

Michael shrugs, "Yeah, well, I called him some names when he said he still wouldn't fight. I doubt that helped. Here come the uglies!"

He draws an arrow and launches it towards the enemy. The arrow makes a screaming sound as it flies. When it lands, it unleashes a blast like a power chord on an electric guitar magnified through the world's largest speakers. The nearest cars explode. Monsters drop their weapons and clasp their ears in pain. Some run. Others disintegrate on the spot.

"That was my last sonic arrow," Michael mumbles sadly.

"A gift from your dad?" Thalia smiles. "God of music?"

Michael grins wickedly, "Loud music can be bad for you. Unfortunately, it doesn't always kill."

Sure enough, most monsters are regrouping, shaking off their confusion.

"We have to fall back," Michael says. "I've got Kayla and Austin setting traps farther down the bridge."

"No," Thalia says. "Bring your campers forward to this position and wait for my signal. We're going to drive the enemy back to Brooklyn."

Michael laughs, "How do you plan to do that?"

She draws her sword—Percy's sword Riptide.

"Thalia, wait," Nico says, "let me come with you."

"Are you really gonna leave me behind?" Annabeth growls.

Thalia sighs, "Nico can come. Annabeth, we need you to help Michael coordinate the defensive line. Nico and I will distract the monsters. You group up here. Move the sleeping mortals out of the way. Then you can start picking off monsters while we keep them focused on us. If anyone can do all that, you can."

Michael snorts, "Thanks a lot."

Thalia keeps her eyes on Annabeth.

"Thalassa, vade cum illo," the daughter of Poseidon nods, moving out. _Go with them._

Annabeth nods reluctantly. Thalia smiles gratefully, "All right. Get moving. You too, Michael."

The son of Apollo pouts, "I always get the boring jobs."

Thalia, who's pretty much on a roll now, kisses him on the cheek her eyes taking on this innocent look, "Please?"

"Uh—…o-okay, uh, sure."

Nico smiles playfully, "Don't I get a kiss for good luck?"

Thalia rolls her eyes, smiling, "Come back alive, Deadbeat. Then we'll see."

He laughs, both of them stepping out from behind the school bus. They walk up the bridge in plain sight, straight towards the enemy.

When the Minotaur sees them, his eyes burn with hate. It's actually a funny story how they killed this one. They were five at the time; Daedalus was teaching them the best ways to destroy large monsters like this monster. Long story short, Thalia, Nico and Percy had a fun time torturing this hideous beast, the little demon children they were. But it was Percy who ended up killing the Minotaur, lucky little bastard.

The Minotaur bellows—a sound that was somewhere between a yell, a moo, and a really loud belch. He pounds his fist on the hood of a Lexus, crumpling it like aluminum foil.

A few _dracanae_ throw flaming javelins at them. Thalia and Nico knock them aside with ease. A hellhound lunges at Thalia to which she sidesteps. For a moment she hesitates.

_This is not Mrs. O'Leary,_ she reminds herself. _This is an untamed monster. It will kill me and all my friends._

It pounces again. This time she brings her sword up in a deadly arc. The hellhound disintegrates into dust and fur. Nico shoots her questioning glance to which she ignores.

More monsters surge forward—snakes and giants and telekhines—but the Minotaur roars at them, and they back off.

"Time to settle a score?" Thalia calls out. "Give us your best shot!"

The Minotaur's nostrils quiver, his nose wet, red and gross.

Nico grimaces, "He seriously needs to keep a pack of Aloe Vera Kleenex in his armor pocket."

He unstraps his axe, swinging it around.

To Thalia and Nico, it's beautiful in that harsh _I'm-going-to-gut-you-like-a-fish_ kind of way. Each of its twin blades is shaped like an omega: Ω-the last letter of the Greek alphabet. The shaft is about the same height as the Minotaur, bronze wrapped in leather. Tied around the base of each blade are bead necklaces. It takes them a moment to realize they're Camp Half-Blood beads—necklaces taken from defeated demigods.

Thalia and Nico raise their swords, no doubt pissed. The monster army cheers for the Minotaur, but soon the sound dies when they dodge his first swing. Thalia slices his axe in half, right between the handholds.

"Moo?" he grunts.

She spins, kicking him in the snout. He staggers backward; trying to regain his footing, then lowers his head to charge.

Nico's sword flashes, cutting off both of the Minotaur's horns. He tries to grab at Thalia. Nico stabs him in the wrist while she rolls away, picking up half of his broken axe. The other monsters back up in stunned silence, making a circle around them. The Minotaur bellows in rage, charging forward. Nico runs for the edge of the bridge, breaking through a line of _dracanae._

The Minotaur must've smelled victory, thinking Nico's running from him. His minions cheer. At the edge of the bridge, Nico turns, bracing his sword against the railing to receive his charge. The Minotaur doesn't even slow down.

He looks down in surprise at Nico's sword sprouting from his breastplate.

"Thanks for playing," Thalia says behind him, stabbing the monster's back with the broken axe blade.

Nico pulls his sword out of the Minotaur, rolling away just as Thalia kicks his back, sending him over the side of the bridge. Even as he falls, he's disintegrating, turning back into dust, his essence returning to Tartarus.

Both of the demigods turn toward his army. It's roughly one hundred and ninety-nine to two. So, they do the natural thing. They charge.

They slice their way through the army. Snake women explode. Hellhounds melt to shadows. Once they're vaguely aware of the others behind them, shooting arrows, disrupting every attempt by the enemy to rally. Finally, the monsters turn and flee—about twenty left alive out of two hundred.

Thalia and Nico follow with the Apollo campers at their heels.

"Yes!" yells Michael Yew. "That's what I'm talking about!"

They drive them back towards the Brooklyn side of the bridge. The sky begins to grow pale in the east, toll stations just ahead.

"Thalia!" Annabeth yells. "You've already routed them. Pull back! We're overextended!"

Some part of them knows she's right, but at the same time, Thalia's overconfidence gets the better of her. They a see a crowd gathering at the base of the bridge. The retreating monsters running straight towards their reinforcements. It's a small group, maybe thirty or forty demigods in battle armor, mounted on skeletal horses. One of them holds a purple banner with the black scythe design.

The lead horseman trots forward. He takes off his helm, to which they recognize Percy, his eyes like molten gold. _Kronos._

Annabeth and the Apollo campers falter. The monsters they've been pursuing reach the Titan's line, absorbed into the new force. Kronos gazes in their direction. A quarter a mile away, Thalia's pretty sure she can see him smiling.

"Now," she gulps, "we pull back."

"Well damn, why didn't I suggest that?" Annabeth says sarcastically.

The Titan lord's men draw their swords and charge. The hooves of their skeletal horses thunder against the pavement. Thalassa and the Apollo campers shoot a volley of arrows, bringing down several of the enemy's men, but they just keep riding.

"Retreat!" Nico tells the others. "We'll hold them.'"

Michael and his archers try to retreat, but Annabeth stays right beside her friends, fighting with her knife and mirrored shield as they slowly back up the bridge.

Kronos's cavalry swirls around them, slashing and yelling insults. The Titan himself advances leisurely, like he possesses all the time in the world. Well, being the Lord of Time, he kind of does.

They try to wound his men, not exactly kill them. This slows them down of course, but these aren't monsters. They're demigods who'd fallen under Kronos's spell. Three years ago, Annabeth, Thalia and Nico wouldn't have hesitated to stab them in the chest, ending their life.

Annabeth can't see faces under their battle helmets, but some of them had probably been her students, a few even her friends. She slashes the legs off their horses, making the skeletal mounts disintegrate. After the first few demigods take a spill, the rest dismount and fight on foot.

Annabeth stays with her friends shoulder to shoulder, each of them facing opposite directions. A dark shape passes over them to which Nico glances up. Blackjack and Porkpie swoop in, kicking the enemies in the helmets and flying away like very large kamikaze pigeons.

They almost make it to the middle of the bridge when something strange happens to Nico. A chill runs down his spine, the same chill he always gets when he knows he's close to death.

Suddenly, Thalia cries out in pain.

He looks in time to see her fall, clutching her arm. A demigod with a bloody knife stands over her.

In a flash he understands what had happened. He'd been trying to stab Nico. Judging from the position of his blade, he would've taken him—maybe by sheer luck—straight through his right rib cage.

Thalia had intercepted the knife with her own body.

Nico locks eyes with the enemy demigod. He wears an eye patch under his war helm: Ethan Nakamura, the son of Nemesis who'd somehow survived the explosion on the _Princess Andromeda._

Nico slams him in the face with his sword hilt, denting his helm.

"Get back!" he snarls, slashing the air in a wide arc, driving the rest of the demigods away from Thalia. Even Annabeth shrinks back wearily. "No one touches her!"

"Interesting," Kronos says.

He towers above Nico on his skeletal horse, his scythe in one hand. He studies the scene with narrowed eyes as if he could sense how much Nico cares for Thalia, the way a wolf can smell fear.

"Bravely fought, Nico Di Angelo," he says. "But it's time to surrender... or the girl dies."

"Nico, don't," Thalia groans, her shirt soaked with blood.

"Blackjack!" he yells.

As fast as lightning, the Pegasus swoops down, clamping his teeth on the straps of Thalia's armor. They soar away over the river before the enemy can even react.

Kronos snarls, "Someday soon, I am going to make Pegasus soup. But in the meantime..." he dismounts, his scythe glistening in the dawn light. "I'll settle for another dead demigod."

Nico meets his first strike with his sword. The impact shakes the entire bridge, but Nico holds his ground. Kronos's smile wavers.

With a yell, Nico kicks his legs out from under him. Kronos's scythe skitters across the pavement. Nico stabs downward, but he rolls aside, regaining his footing. The scythe flies back into Kronos's hands.

He studies him, "I suppose Hecate's curse does you some good. But no matter. I am still more powerful. I am a _TITAN."_

He strikes the bridge with the butt of his scythe, a wave of pure force blasting Nico backwards. Cars go careening. Demigods—even Percy's own men—are blown off the edge of the bridge. Suspension cords whip around, everyone skidding at least halfway back to Manhattan.

Nico gets unsteadily to his feet. The remaining Apollo campers are almost at the end of the bridge, except for Michael Yew, who's perched on one of the suspension cables a few yards away from Nico. His last arrow is notched in his bow.

"Annabeth, go!" he yells.

"Nico, the bridge!" she calls.

"It's already weak!" Michael finishes for her.

At first he doesn't understand. Then he looks down, seeing fissures in the pavement, patches of the road half melted from Greek fire. The bridge had taken a beating from Kronos's blast as well as the exploding arrows.

"Break it!" he yells. "Use your powers!"

It's a desperate thought—no way it would work—but Nico's stabs his sword into the bridge. The magical blade sinks into asphalt. An invisible force shakes the bridge, making it crumble. Nico pulls out his blade, the force increasing. Chunks the size of houses fall into the East River. Kronos's demigods cry out in alarm, scrambling backwards. Some are knocked off their feet. Within a few seconds, a fifty-foot chasm opens in the Williamsburg Bridge between Kronos and him.

The vibrations die down. Kronos's men creep to the edge, looking at the hundred and thirty foot drop into the river.

Even then Nico doesn't feel safe. The suspension cables are still attached. The men can get across that way if they're brave enough. Or maybe Kronos has a magic way to span the gap.

The Titan lord studies the problem. He looks behind him at the rising sun, then smiles across the chasm. He raises his scythe in a mock salute, "Until this evening, Di Angelo."

He mounts his horse, whirling around, and galloping back to Brooklyn, followed by his warriors.

"Thanks Michael," Nico murmurs, turning to the son of Apollo.

The short demigod regains the color in his face, "Uh, yeah… no problem."

Annabeth's cell phone rings. The LCD display says she has a caller from Finklestein & Associates—a demigod calling on a borrowed phone.

Annabeth picks up, hoping for good news. She's wrong, of course.

"Annabeth?" Murphy murmurs, fear creeping into her voice. "Plaza Hotel. You'd better come quickly and bring a healer from Apollo's cabin. Thalia, she..."

Annabeth doesn't have to be told twice.

**Plaza Hotel—August 15**

On Porkpie it takes them five minutes to reach the Plaza—an old-fashioned white stone hotel with a gabled blue roof, sitting at the southeast corner of Central Park.

Tactically speaking, the Plaza isn't the best place for a headquarters. It isn't the tallest building in town, or the most centrally located. But it has that old-school style and has attracted a lot of famous demigods over the years, like the Beatles and Alfred Hitchcock, so Annabeth figures they're in good company.

She'd never actually been inside the Plaza before. The lobby is impressive, with the crystal chandeliers and passed-out rich people, but she doesn't exactly pay much attention to that. Upon returning Thalassa to her Hunters, a couple of them give Annabeth and Nico directions to the elevators, to which they ride up to the penthouse suites.

Demigods have completely taken over the top floors. Campers and Hunters crash out on sofas, washing up in the bathrooms, ripping silk draperies to bandage their wounds, helping themselves to snacks and sodas from the minibars. A couple of timber wolves even drink out of the toilets.

Annabeth's relieved to see so many of the campers made it through the night alive, even though a lot of them look beat up.

"Annabeth!" Jake Mason claps her on the shoulder. "We're getting reports—"

"Later," she says. "Where's Thalia?"

"The terrace. She's alive, but..."

Nico pushes past him.

Thalia's lying on a lounge chair, her face pale, beading with sweat. Even though she's covered in blankets, Thalia shivers.

Lee Fletcher and Nico push through the crowd of Hermes kids. Lee unwraps Thalia's bandages to examine the wound. Annabeth grimaces; the bleeding's stopped but the gash looks deep, the skin around the cut a horrible shade of green.

"Thalia..." Nico chokes up. "Why'd you have to do this again?"

"I don't know," she says truthfully. "One of these days I'll have to stab you twice just so we're even." Thalia sighs, "Poison on the dagger. Pretty stupid of me, huh?"

Lee Fletcher exhales with relief, "It's not so bad, Thalia. A few more minutes and we would've been in trouble, but the venom hasn't gotten past the shoulder yet. Just lie still. Somebody hand me some nectar."

Annabeth grabs a canteen. Lee cleans out the wound with the godly drink while Nico holds Thalia's hand.

"Shit!" she hisses. "Aw, fuck that hurts." Her grip on Nico's hand tightens but she stays still just like Lee ordered. Murphy stands by her side, muttering words of encouragement. Lee puts some silver paste over the wound and hums words in Ancient Greek—a hymn to Apollo. When he's done, Lee applies fresh bandages and stands up tiredly.

"That should do it. Thalia's going to be okay. Just give her shoulder a few hours." He sighs, "We're still going to need mortal supplies."

He grabs a piece of hotel stationery, jotting down some notes, and hands it to Malcolm. "There's a Duane Reade on Fifth. Normally I would never steal—"

"I would," Murphy and Travis volunteer at the same time.

Lee glares at them, "Leave cash or drachmas to pay, whatever you've got, but this is an emergency. I've got a feeling we're going to have a lot more people to treat."

Nobody disagrees. There isn't anyone who hasn't been wounded. Well except for Nico and Annabeth.

"Come on," Travis Stoll says. "Let's give Thalia some space. We've got a drugstore to raid... I mean, visit."

The demigods shuffle back inside.

"Don't chew or snort any pills, trust me I will find out," Annabeth warns.

Jake Mason grabs her shoulder before he leaves. "We'll talk later, but it's under control. I'm using your shield to keep an eye on things. The enemy withdrew at sunrise; not sure why. We've got a lookout at each bridge and tunnel. Oh, and uh… someone wants to see you."

"Thanks, man," Nico says.

He nods, closing the terrace doors behind him, leaving Thalia, Annabeth, and Nico alone.

"You'll be okay without me?" Annabeth murmurs.

Thalia rolls her eyes, "I'm not a baby. Besides, I feel better already. Soon I'll be up kicking some Titan ass."

"You're not going back out there," Nico says sternly.

She smiles deviously, "Who's going to stop me?"

Annabeth shakes her head, "Right, I'll just go then."

Once she's gone, Nico kneels down next to Thalia, feeling her forehead. She's still burning up.

"You're cute when you're worried," she mutters. "Your eyebrows get all scrunched together."

"And you're a lot feistier when you're sick," Nico smiles but it soon disappears. "Why did you take that knife?"

"You would've done the same for me."

"I owe you twice now," he murmurs. "I'll have to pay your back eventually."

When the doors to the elevator open, Annabeth steps out grimacing. Who'd want to see her, anyway?

"Chase."

She blinks, turning to the brown leather sofa in the lobby. Her eyes widen, "Daedalus?"

The old teacher stands, turning to the half-blood beside him, "It's okay. You remember her don't you?"

Luke stares at her with mesmerizing blue eyes, "Um…Annabelle?"

She manages a smile, "Annabeth. You were close though." She turns to Daedalus, "How's he doing?"

"Much better than before," he admits. "He's having trouble with names at the moment but the Labyrinth's giving him flashbacks. He's better remembering faces."

Annabeth nods, unable to conceal her happiness, "You came to help with the war?"

He scoffs, "Of course. You think I'm going to let my students have all the fun? I'm not Chiron for the gods' sakes."

She gives Luke a curious glance, "Why's he here?"

Luke looks at her nervously, "I, uh… I wanted to help."

Daedalus rolls his eyes, "What can I say? This one convinced me. He's pretty good with a sword though, despite the fact he's lost most of his training. And plus, he's mastered the puppy dog look thanks to television."

Annabeth laughs, "Oh, so the great Daedalus has fallen to his knees by the mighty _puppy dog look_? That's amazing."

"Now enough of that," he growls. "I've heard Athena needs Plan twenty-three put into action. Do you want my help or not?"

**Double postings are nice ;)**

**Reviews are nicer ;DD**

**Annyway, I'm writing a new Percy Jackson Fanfiction. Basically it's AU-Titan Victory. Six (or seven) years after Percy lost to the Titans, Thalia Grace has been captured by the T.A.R.D (Titan Army Rebel Displacement) unit. Brought in front of Kronos, instead of being killed her punishment is far worse. She is to serve as Kronos's wife. Of course there's more to the story but I don't feel like typing it up. I'm leaning towards Rating it M though. Romans will make an appearence, FYI.**

**So, that's all for tonight folks.**


	8. Chapter 7

Nico passes out on a couch in the living room. He doesn't realize it at first but this dream has its goal set on ruining his sleep.

He's in the backwoods of New Jersey, on a crumbling road lined with run-down businesses and tattered billboard signs. A trampled fence rings a big yard full of cement statuary. The sign above the warehouse is hard to read because mainly because it's in red cursive, but Nico knows what it says: AUNTY EM'S GARDEN GNOME EMPORIUM.

He hasn't thought about the place in years, a decrepit hole he had the unfortunate pleasure of visiting when he was thirteen. It's clearly abandoned, the statues broken and spray-painted with graffiti.

Part of the warehouse roof is caved in. A big yellow sign pasted on the door reads: Condemned.

Hundreds of tents and fires surround the property. Mostly Nico sees monsters, but there are some human mercenaries in combat fatigues and demigods in armor, too. A purple and black banner hangs outside the emporium, guarded by two huge blue Hyperborean giants.

Ethan's crouched at the nearest campfire. A couple of other demigods sit with him, sharpening their swords. The doors of the warehouse open, and Terra steps out.

"Nakamura," she calls. "The Lord would like to speak to you."

Ethan stands warily, "Something wrong?"

Terra smiles mysteriously, "You'll have to ask him."

One of the other demigods snickers, "Nice knowing you."

Ethan readjusts his sword belt, heading into the warehouse.

Except for the hole in the roof, the place is just how Nico remembers. Statues of terrified people stand frozen in mid-scream. In the snack bar area, the picnic tables have been moved aside. Right between the soda dispenser and pretzel warmer stands a golden throne. Kronos lounges on it, his scythe across his lap. He wears jeans and a T-shirt, with this brooding expression he looks almost human—like the Percy Nico used to know. Then Percy sees Ethan, and his face contorts into a very inhuman smile.

His golden eyes glow, "Well, Nakamura. What do you think of the battle on the Williamsburg Bridge?"

Ethan hesitates, "I'm sure Terra is better suited to speak—"

"But I asked _you._"

Ethan's good eye darts back and forth, noting the guards that stand around Kronos.

"I... I don't think the daughter of Zeus was killed, only injured. She will appear in the next battle I'm sure."

Kronos nods, "Anything else you wanted to tell me?"

"N-no, sir.

"You look nervous, Ethan."

"No, sir. It's just... I heard this was the lair of -"

"Medusa? Yes, quite true. Lovely place, eh? Unfortunately, Medusa hasn't re-formed since Di Angelo and Jackson killed her, so you needn't worry about joining her collection. Besides, there are much more dangerous forces in this room."

Kronos looked over at a Laistrygonian giant who was munching noisily on some french fries.

Kronos waves his hand and the giant freezes. A french fry hangs suspended in midair halfway between his hand and his mouth.

"Why turn them to stone," Kronos asks, "when you can freeze time itself?"

His golden eyes bore into Ethan's face, "Now, tell me one more thing. What happened last night on the Williamsburg Bridge?"

Ethan trembles. Beads of perspiration were popping up on his forehead, "I... I don't know, sir."

"Yes, you do," Kronos rises from his seat. "When you attacked Di Angelo, something happened. Something not quite right. The girl, Thalia, jumped in your way."

"She wanted to save him."

"So, you weren't the only who noticed?" Kronos says quietly.

"I can't explain it, my lord."

"Of course you can't," he murmurs. "You don't know these half-bloods as well as you think you do."

Ethan frowns but doesn't answer.

"I see," he says in a chilly tone. "Bring Terra in, I must share—"

Suddenly the Titan lord winces. The giant in the corner unfreezes and the french fry falls into his mouth. Kronos stumbles backwards, sinking into his throne.

"My lord?" Ethan starts forward.

"I—" The voice is weak, but just for a moment it's Percy's voice. Then Kronos's expression hardens. He raises his hand and flexes his fingers slowly as if forcing them to obey.

"It is nothing," he says, his voice steely and cold again. "A minor discomfort."

Ethan moistens his lips, "He's still fighting you, isn't he? Percy—"

"Nonsense," Kronos hisses. "Repeat that lie, and I will cut out your tongue. The boy's soul has been crushed. I am simply adjusting to the limits of this form. It requires rest. It is annoying, but no more than a temporary inconvenience."

"As... as you say, my lord."

"You!" Kronos points his scythe at a _dracanae_ with green armor and a green crown. "Queen Sess, is it?"

"Yesssss, my lord."

"Is our little surprise ready to be unleashed?"

The _dracanae_ queen bares her fangs, "Oh, yessss, my lord. Quite a lovely sssssurprissse."

"Excellent," Kronos says. "Tell my brother Hyperion to move our main force south into Central Park. The half-bloods will be in such disarray they will not be able to defend themselves. Go now, Ethan and prepare for battle. We will speak again when we have taken Manhattan."

Ethan bows, and the dream dissipates. Nico wakes up with a start.

"Nico?" Thalia asks, hovering over him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Nico lies. "What... what are you doing in armor? You should be resting."

"Oh, I'm fine," she says coolly, though she looking a little pale, barely moving her right arm. "That nectar and ambrosia fixed me up."

"Uh-huh. You can't seriously go out and fight."

She offers him her good hand, helping him up. He glances outside, the sky purple and red.

"You're going to need every person you have," she says. "Annabeth looked in her shield. There's an army—"

"Heading south into Central Park," he says. "Yeah, I know."

Nico tells her about his dream, leaving out Ethan's speculation about Percy fighting Kronos inside his body. The last thing he needs is to get their hopes up.

"Any idea what surprise Kronos was talking about?"

She shakes her head, her expression unreadable, "Annabeth didn't see anything in the shield, but I don't like surprises."

"Agreed."

"So," she says, "are you going to argue about me coming along?"

"Nah. You'd just beat me up."

She manages a laugh, which to him is pretty good to hear. Nico grabs his sword, both of them running to rally the troops.

Annabeth and the head counselors are already waiting for them at the Reservoir. Streetlamps glow around the shore of the lake, making the water and trees look even spookier.

"They're coming," Zoe confirms, pointing north with a silver arrow. "One of my scouts has reported they have crossed the Harlem River."

"There was no way to hold them back. The army..." Bianca says, biting her lip. "It's huge."

"We'll hold them at the park," Annabeth says. "Grover, you ready?"

The satyr nods, "As ready as we'll ever be. If my nature spirits can stop them anywhere, this is the place."

"Yes, we will!" said another voice. A very old, fat satyr pushed through the crowd, stumbling over his own spear. He's dressed in wood-bark armor that only covers half of his belly.

"Leneus?" Jason murmurs.

"Don't act so surprised," he huffs. "I am a leader of the Council," Behind his back, Grover rolls his eyes, "Never fear! We'll show those Titans!"

Thalia manages to keep a straight face, "Um... yeah. Well, Grover, you won't be alone. Annabeth and the Athena cabin will make their stand here. And Nico and I will stay with... Zoe?"

She nods, "Say no more. The Hunters are ready."

Nico looks at the other counselors, "That leaves the rest of you with a job just as important. You have to guard the other entrances to Manhattan. You know how tricky Kronos is. He'll hope to distract us with this big army and sneak another force in somewhere else. It's up to you to make sure that doesn't happen. Has each cabin chosen a bridge or tunnel?"

The counselors nod grimly.

"Then let's do it," Thalia shouts. "Good hunting, everybody!"

They hear the army before they see it.

At the north end of the reservoir, the enemy vanguard breaks through the woods—a warrior in golden armor leading a battalion of Laistrygonian giants with huge bronze axes. Hundreds of other monsters pour out behind them.

"Positions!" Annabeth yells.

Her cabin-mates scramble. The idea is to make the enemy army break around the reservoir. To get to the demigods, they have to follow the trails, which means the enemy will be marching in narrow columns on either side of the water.

At first, the plan seems to work. The enemy divides, streaming toward them along the shore. When the enemies are halfway across, their defenses kick in. The jogging trail erupts in Greek fire, incinerating many monsters instantly. Others flail around, engulfed in green flames. Athena campers throw grappling hooks around the largest giants, pulling them to the ground.

In the woods on the right, the Hunters send a volley of silver arrows into the enemy line, destroying twenty or thirty dracanae, but more march in behind them. A bolt of lightning crackles out of the sky and fries a Laistrygonian giant to ashes. Nico figures its Thalia doing her daughter of Zeus thing.

Grover raises his pipes and plays a quick tune. A roar goes up from the woods on both sides as every tree, rock, and bush seems to sprout a spirit. Dryads and satyrs raise their clubs and charge. The trees wrap around the monsters, strangling them. Grass grows around the feet of the enemy archers. Stones fly up, hitting dracanae in the faces.

The enemy surges forward. Giants smash through the trees, naiads fading as their life sources are destroyed. Hellhounds lunge at the timber wolves, knocking them aside. Enemy archers return fire, a Hunter falls from a high branch.

"Annabeth!" Nico grabs her arm and points at the reservoir. The Titan in gold armor isn't waiting for his forces to advance around the sides. He charges towards them, walking straight over the top of the lake.

A Greek firebomb explodes right on top of him, but he raises his palm, sucking the flames out of the air.

"Hyperion," Annabeth says in awe. "The lord of light. Titan of the east."

"Bad?" Nico guesses.

"Next to Atlas, he's the greatest Titan warrior. In the old days, four Titans controlled the four corners of the world. Hyperion was the east—the most powerful. He was the father of Helios, the first sun god."

"I'll keep him busy," Nico promises.

"Nico you can't fight a Titan alone…"

"Then get Thalia's ass, and meet me back here. Tell Malcolm to keep our forces together."

Nico cracks his knuckles, grabbing the hilt to his sword, waiting for the Titan to approach.

Twenty feet away, Hyperion raises his own sword. His eyes are gold like Kronos's but much brighter, like miniature suns.

"The god of the Underworld's brat," he muses. "You're one of the demigods who trapped Atlas beneath the sky again?"

"It wasn't hard," he says. "You Titans are about as bright Hades' ass."

Hyperion snarls, "You want bright?"

His body ignites in a column of light and heat. Nico looks away, blinded. Instinctively he raises his sword. Just in time for Hyperion's blade to slam against it. The shock wave itself destroys a half a dozen other trees.

Nico eyes still burn. He has to shut off his light.

He concentrates on the Earth, willing the ground to rumble beneath him. A huge spire of black stone rips its way to the surface, slamming into Hyperion. The Titan flies into the lake, his light extinguished.

He struggles to his feet, golden armor dripping wet. His eyes no longer blaze, but they still look murderous.

"You will burn, Di Angelo!" he roars.

Their swords meet again, the air charging with ozone.

The battle still rages on around them. On right flank, Zoe and Bianca lead an assault with their hunters. On left flank, Grover and his nature spirits regroup, entangling enemies with bushes and weeds.

In frustration, Hyperion roars. A wall of force slams into Nico, making him fly through the air—just like the trick Kronos pulled off on the bridge. Nico sails backward three hundred yards smashing into the ground. If he'd been a normal demigod, he probably would've broken every bone in his body. He stands, grumbling, only ankle and back groaning in pain, "I really hate it when you Titans do that."

Hyperion closes in on Nico with blinding speed.

Nico concentrates on the shadows, drawing strength from the darkness surrounding him.

Hyperion attacks. He's powerful and fast, but can't seem to land a blow. The ground around his feet keeps erupting in flames, but soon goes out just as quickly.

"Stop it!" the Titan yells. "Stop that wind!"

Nico grits his teeth, "I'm not doing anything."

Hyperion stumbles like he's being pushed away. Water sprays in his face, stinging his eyes. The wind picks up, Hyperion staggering backwards.

"Nico!" Grover calls in amazement. "How are you doing that?"

"Doing what?" he shouts.

Then he looks around him. Standing in the middle of a mini thunderstorm is no other than Nico himself.

"Hey Deadbeat," he hears a familiar voice call. "Did you miss me?"

Clouds of water vapor swirled around him, winds so powerful they pound into Hyperion, flattening the grass in a twenty-yard radius. Enemy warriors throw javelins at him, but the storm knocks them aside.

"Cool," he mutters. "But a little more!"

Thalia hisses, her concentration tightening. Lightning flickers around him. The clouds darken, the rain swirling faster. They close in on Hyperion, blowing him off his feet.

"Thalia, Nico!" Grover calls again. "Bring him over here!"

Nico slashes and jabs, letting his reflexes take over. Hyperion can barely defend himself. His eyes keep trying to ignite, but the storm quenches his flames. His glare narrows in on Thalia. He blocks Nico's attacks, never losing sight of her. With the last bit of power he has, Hyperion launches his sword, which slices its way through the winds like butter, straight towards her.

Everything after that happens in slow motion. He just comes out of nowhere. Thalia watches on in horror as a sword impales itself straight through Nico's abdomen. Thalia can't keep up the storm forever, though. She can feel her powers weakening, her shoulder throbbing. With one last effort, she propels Hyperion across the field, straight to where Grover is waiting.

"I will not be toyed with!" Hyperion roars.

He manages to get to his feet again, but Grover put his reed pipes to his lips, beginning to play. Leneus joins him. Around the grove, satyr take up the song—an eerie melody, like a creek flowing over stones. Hunters and demigods cover them. The ground erupts at Hyperion's feet gnarled roots wrapping around his legs.

"What's this?" he protests. He tries to shake off the roots, but he's too weak. The roots thicken around him.

"Stop this!" he shouts. "Your woodland magic is no match for a Titan!"

"I beg to differ," Annabeth says smugly, appearing beside Grover.

The more he struggles, the faster the roots grow. They curl about his body, thickening and hardening into bark. His golden armor melts into the wood, becoming part of a large trunk.

The music continues. Hyperion's forces back up in astonishment as their leader is absorbed. He stretches out his arms and they become branches, from which smaller branches shoot out and grow leaves. The tree grows taller and thicker, until only the Titan's face is visible in the middle of the trunk.

"You cannot imprison me!" he bellows. "I am Hyperion! I am—"

The bark closes around his face.

Grover takes his pipes from his mouth, "You are a very nice maple tree."

Several of the other satyrs pass out from exhaustion after completely encasing the Titan in an enormous maple. The trunk is at least twenty feet in diameter, with branches as tall as any in the park. The tree could've stood there for the next few centuries.

The Titan's army starts to retreat. A cheer runs up from the Athena cabin, but their victory is short-lived. They rush to Thalia's side, who's already crouching beside Nico.

"Fuck Nico, stay with me!" Thalia cries, shaking him, hitting him. She blinks the tears from her eyes, "Please Nico, I can't lose you. You promised Nico, you promised!"

He groans in pain as Bianca and Thalassa, lift him from the ground. "We'll take him to the Plaza Hotel," she tells Annabeth and Thalia.

"Confortare," Thalassa murmurs, as the three of them wander off.

Thalia doesn't have time to pull herself together. Because right then, Kronos unleashes his surprise.

A huge pink creature soars over the reservoir—a Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade nightmare blimp with wings.

"A sow!" Annabeth cries. "Take cover!"

The demigods scatter as the winged pig swoops down. Her wings are pink like a flamingo's, which matches her skin beautifully, but for Annabeth it's hard to think of her as cute when her hooves slam into the ground, barely missing one of her siblings. The pig stomps around, tearing down half an acre of trees, belching a cloud of noxious gas. Then it takes off again, circling around for another strike.

"Don't tell me that thing is from Greek mythology," Thalia growls.

"Afraid so," Annabeth says. "The Clazmonian Sow. It terrorized Greek towns back in the day."

"Let me guess," she says. "Hercules beat it."

Annabeth shakes her head, "As far as I know, no hero has ever beaten it."

"Perfect," Thalia mutters, wiping the wetness off of her face.

The Titan's army recovers from its shock, realizing the pig isn't after them. Annabeth's army only has seconds before they're ready to fight, and their forces are still in a panic. Every time the sow belches, Grover's nature spirits yelp, fading back into their trees.

"That pig has to go," Thalia snarls, grabbing a grappling hook from one of Annabeth's siblings. "I'll take care of it. You guys hold the rest of the enemy. Push them back!"

"But, Thalia your arm is busted," Annabeth shouts. "You'll get yourself killed!"

Thalia ignores her aching body, "Retreat if you need to," she tells her. "Just slow them down. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Before she can change her mind, she swings the grappling hook like a lasso. When the sow comes down for its next pass, Thalia throws it despite the pain in her shoulder. The hook wraps around the base of the pig's wing. It squeals in rage, veering off, yanking the rope and Thalia into the sky.

The sow soars past the Plaza Hotel, straight into the canyon of Fifth Avenue. Thalia doesn't exactly have a brilliant plan but the Titans have pissed her off, which is never a good thing to do. Thalia tries to climb the rope and jump on the pig's back. Unfortunately she's too busy swinging around dodging streetlamps and the sides of buildings.

They zigzag along several blocks and continued south on Park Avenue. A horse whinnies beside Thalia. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Blackjack speeding along next to them, darting back and forth to avoid the pig's wings.

"Watch out!" she tells him.

Blackjack shakes his head, beckoning Thalia to jump on his back.

She tells him to wait as she sees Grand Central dead ahead. Above the main entrance stands the giant statue of Hermes, which Daedalus hadn't had time to activate.

"Stay alert!" she shouts to Blackjack. "I've got an idea."

The horse rolls his eyes.

Thalia swings outward with all her might. Instead of smashing into the Hermes statue, she whips around it, circling the rope under its arms. Just as the pig wrenches the statue loose from its pedestal, she lets go. Hermes goes for a ride, taking Thalia's place as the pig's passenger.

A shadow swoops under Thalia. She lands on Blackjack's back which isn't exactly the most comfortable landing. Thalia shakes off the pain, knowing if she were a guy it would've been a lot worse.

"Follow the pig, Blackjack."

The sow takes a right at East 42nd, flying back toward Fifth Avenue, the Hermes statue still on its leash. It bonks into buildings, spinning around. The pig swoops over an office building, Hermes plowing into a water tower on the roof, blasting water and wood everywhere.

"Get closer," she tells Blackjack.

He whinnies in protest.

"Just within shouting distance," Thalia says. "I need to talk to the statue."

Again, Blackjack rolls his eyes.

Close enough to see the statue's face, Thalia yells, just like Daedalus had shown her the hour before, "Hermes! Command sequence: Daedalus Twenty-three. Kill Flying Pigs! Begin Activation!"

Immediately the statue moves its legs. It seems confused at first, to find it's no longer on top of Grand Central Terminal. Instead, it's being given a sky-ride on the end of a rope by a large winged sow. It smashes through the side of a brick building. The Hermes statue shakes his head, beginning to climb the rope.

She glances down at the street, watching as they come up on the main public library, big marble lions flanking the steps. Suddenly she gets a weird thought.

"Faster!" Thalia yells at Blackjack. "Get in front of the pig, taunt him!"

He gives her a questioning look.

"Trust me," she says. "We can do this... probably."

Blackjack bursts through the air, getting in front of the pig, which now has a metal Hermes on its back. Blackjack whinnies something, kicking the pig in the snout with his back hooves and going into a steep dive. The pig screams in rage, following.

They barrel straight for the front steps of the library. Blackjack slows down just enough for Thalia to hop off, then keeps flying toward the main doors.

"Lions!" she yells out. "Command sequence: Daedalus Twenty-three. Kill Flying Pigs! Begin Activation!"

The lions stand up looking at her like she's joking.

The massive pink pork monster lands with a thud, cracking the sidewalk beside them. The lions stare at it, not believing their luck, and pouncing. At the same time, a very beat-up Hermes statue leaps onto the pig's head, banging it mercilessly with a caduceus. Thalia cringes, grasping her sword. Before she can even stab it, the pig disintegrates before her eyes.

"Convenient," Thalia grumbles. The lions and the Hermes statue look at her confusion.

"You can defend Manhattan now," she tells them. They charge down Park Avenue, not seeming to hear her. Blackjack comes up beside her, nudging Thalia's back. She glances at him inquiringly to which he points at a doughnut shop across the street.

Thalia grins, ""I wish, big guy, but the fight's still going on."

She jumps on Blackjack, flying north towards the sound of explosions vast approaching.

Midtown is a war zone. They fly over little skirmishes everywhere. A giant is ripping up trees in Bryant Park while dryads pelt him with nuts. Outside the Waldorf Astoria, a bronze statue of Benjamin Franklin whacks a hellhound with a rolled-up newspaper. A trio of Hephaestus campers fight a squad of dracanae in the middle of Rockefeller Center.

Thalia's tempted to stop and help, but she can tell from the smoke and noise that the real action is moving farther south. Their defenses are collapsing. The enemy is closing in on the Empire State Building.

She does a quick sweep of the surrounding area. The Hunters have a defensive line on 37th, just three blocks north of Olympus. To the east on Park Avenue, Jake Mason and some other Hephaestus campers are leading an army of statues against the enemy. To the west, the Demeter cabin and Grover's nature spirits have Sixth Avenue turned into a jungle hampering a squadron of Kronos's demigods. The south is relatively clear for now, but the flanks of the enemy army are swinging around. A few more minutes and they'll be totally surrounded.

"We have to land where they need us most," Thalia mutters.

Again, Blackjack rolls his eyes. She spots a familiar silver owl banner in the southeast corner of the fight, 33rd at the Park Avenue tunnel. Annabeth, Malcolm and Kelsey holding back a Hyperborean giant.

"There!" Thalia tells Blackjack. They plunge toward the battle.

She leaps off his back, landing on the giant's head. When the giant looks up, she slid off his face, cutting a trail down his temple. The giant staggers backward, blue blood trickling from his nostrils.

Thalia hits the pavement running. The Hyperborean breaths a cloud of white mist, making the temperature drop. The spot where she'd landed is now coated with ice, covering Thalia in frost like a sugar donut.

"Hey, ugly!" Annabeth yells.

The Hyperborean bellows, turning towards her, exposing the unprotected back of his legs. Thalia charges, stabbing him behind the knee.

The Hyperborean buckles, turning him into a mountain of ice.

"Thanks," Annabeth winces, trying to catch her breath. "The pig?"

"Pork chops," Thalia says.

"Good. Come on, we've got plenty of enemies left."

The next hour is a blur. Thalia and Annabeth fight like they've never fought before—wading into legions of dracanae, taking out dozens of telekhines with every strike, destroying Empousai and knocking out enemy demigods. No matter how many they defeat, more take their place.

Annabeth and Thalia race from block to block, trying to shore up their defenses. Too many of their numbers lie wounded in the streets. Too many are missing.

As the night wears on and the moon gets higher, they're backed up foot by foot until they're a block from the Empire State Building. At one point Grover's next to them, bonking snake women over the head with his cudgel. Then he disappears in the crowd, and it's Luke at Thalia's side, driving the monsters back with his sword from Daedalus. Mrs. O'Leary bounds out of nowhere, picked up a Laistrygonian giant in her mouth, and flinging him into the air like a Frisbee.

Annabeth uses her invisibility cap to sneak behind enemy lines. Whenever a monster disintegrates for no apparent reason with a surprised look on its face, Thalia knows its Annabeth there.

But it still isn't enough, just like Daedalus and Chiron had told them.

"Hold your lines!" Bianca Di Angelo shouts, somewhere off to Thalia's left.

The problem is there's too few of them to hold anything. The entrance to Olympus is twenty feet behind Thalia. A ring of brave demigods, Hunters, and nature spirits guard the doors. Thalia slashes and hacks, destroying everything in her path, but even she grows tired, her shoulder feeling like lead. She can't be everywhere at once.

Behind the enemy troops, a few blocks to the east, a bright light begins to shine. At first they think it's the sunrise. Then Thalia realizes Kronos is riding towards them on a golden chariot. A dozen Laistrygonian giants bear torches before him. Two Hyperboreans carry his black-and-purple banners. The Titan lord looks fresh and rested, his powers at full strength. He takes his time advancing, letting Thalia wear herself down.

Annabeth appears next to her, "We have to fall back to the doorway. Hold it at all costs!"

Like always, Thalia knows Annabeth is right. Thalia's about to order a retreat when she hears a hunting horn. It cuts through the noise of the battle like a fire alarm. A chorus of horns answer from all around them, echoing off the buildings of Manhattan.

Thalia glances at Zoe who just frowns.

"Not the Hunters," she assures her. "All of us are here."

"Then who?"

The horns get louder. They can't tell where they're coming from because of the echo, but it sounds like an entire army approaching.

At first Thalia's afraid it might be more enemies, but Kronos's forces look just as confused. Giants lower their clubs and dracanae hiss in displeasure. Even Kronos's honor guard looks uneasy.

Then, to their left, a hundred monsters cry out at once. Kronos's entire northern flank surges forward. At first, Thalia thinks they're doomed, but the monsters don't attack. They run straight past Thalia and Annabeth's small group, crashing into their southern allies.

A new blast of horns shatters the night. The air shimmers in a blur of movement, as an entire cavalry appears as if dropping out of light speed.

"Yeah, baby!" a voice wails. "PARTY!"

A shower of arrows arc over their heads, slamming into the enemy, vaporizing hundreds of demons. But these aren't regular arrows. They make whizzy sounds as they fly, like WHEEEEEE! Some have pinwheels attached to them, others boxing gloves rather than points.

"Centaurs!" Annabeth yells.

An army of Chiron-like monsters explode into their midst in a riot of colors: tie-dyed shirts, rainbow Afro wigs, oversize sunglasses, and war-painted faces. Some have slogans scrawled across their flanks like HORSEZ PWN or KRONOS SUX or PARTY PONIES RULE!

Hundreds of them fill the entire block. Thalia's brain can't process everything she sees, but Thalia knows if she were the enemy, she'd be running.

"Annabeth!" Chiron shouts across the sea of wild centaurs. He's dressed in armor from the waist up, his bow in his hand. He grins in satisfaction, "Sorry we're late!"

"DUDE!" another centaur yells. "Talk later. WASTE MONSTERS NOW!"

He locks and loads a double-barrel paint gun, blasting an enemy hellhound bright pink. The paint must've been mixed with Celestial bronze dust, because as soon as it splatters the hellhound, the monster yelps, dissolving into a pink-and-black puddle.

"PARTY PONIES!" a centaur yells. "SOUTH FLORIDA!"

Somewhere across the battlefield, a deep voice yells back, "HEART OF TEXAS CHAPTER!"

"HAWAII OWNS YOUR FACES!" a third one shouts.

It's the most beautiful thing Thalia's ever seen. The entire Titan army turns and flees, pushed back by a flood of paintballs, arrows, swords, and NERF baseball bats. The centaurs trample everything in their path.

"Stop running, you fools!" Kronos yells. "Stand and ACKK!"

That last part is panicked as Hyperborean giant stumbles backward, sitting on top of him. The lord of time disappears under a giant blue butt. At this point, Thalia's grinning from ear to ear.

They push them for several blocks until Chiron yells, "HOLD! On your promise, HOLD!"

It isn't easy, but eventually the order gets relayed up and down the ranks of centaurs, and they start to pull back, letting the enemy flee.

"Chiron's smart," Annabeth says, wiping the sweat off her face. "If we pursue, we'll get too spread out. We need to regroup."

"But the enemy—"

"They're not defeated," she agrees. "But the dawn is coming. At least we've bought some time."

Thalia doesn't like pulling back, but she knows Annabeth's right. She's starting to get tired of saying that. They watch as the last of the telekhines scuttle toward the East River. Reluctantly Thalia turns, headed back towards the Empire State Building.

They set up a two-block perimeter, with a command tent at the Empire State Building. Chiron informs them that the Party Ponies have sent chapters from almost every state in the Union: forty from California, two from Rhode Island, thirty from Illinois... Roughly five hundred total answered his call, but even with that many, they still won't be able to defend more than a few blocks.

"Dude," says a centaur named Larry. His T-shirt identifies him as BIG CHIEF UBER GUY, NEW MEXICO CHAPTER. "That was more fun than our last convention in Vegas!"

"Yeah," says Owen from South Dakota. He wears a black leather jacket and an old WWII army helmet. "We totally wasted them!"

Chiron pats Owen on the back, "You did well, my friends, but don't get careless. Kronos should never be underestimated. Now why don't you visit the diner on West 33rd and get some breakfast? I hear the Delaware chapter found a stash of root beer."

"Root beer!" they almost trample each other as they gallop off.

"Bring me back some real beer," Thalia shouts after them.

Chiron smiles, shaking his head.

"Chiron, thanks," Annabeth sighs. "Talk about saving the day."

He shrugs, "I'm sorry it took so long. Centaurs travel fast, as you know. We can bend distance as we ride. Even so, getting all the centaurs together was no easy task. The Party Ponies are not exactly organized."

"How'd you get through the magic defenses around the city?" Annabeth asks.

"They slowed us down a bit," Chiron admits, "but I think they're intended mostly to keep mortals out. Kronos doesn't want puny humans getting in the way of his great victory."

"So maybe other reinforcements can get through," Thalia says hopefully.

Chiron strokes his beard, "Perhaps, though time is short. As soon as Kronos regroups, he will attack again. Without the element of surprise on our side..."

They understand what he means. Kronos isn't beaten. Not by a long shot. Thalia half hoped Kronos had been squashed under that Hyperborean giant's butt, but she knows better. He'll be back, tonight at the latest.

"And Typhon?" Thalia asks.

Chiron's face darkens, "The gods are tiring. Dionysus was incapacitated yesterday. Typhon smashed his chariot, and the wine god went down somewhere in the Appalachians. No one has seen him since. Hephaestus is out of action as well. He was thrown from the battle so hard he created a new lake in West Virginia. He will heal, but not soon enough to help. The others still fight. They've managed to slow Typhon's approach. But the monster cannot be stopped. He will arrive in New York by this time tomorrow. Once he and Kronos combine forces—"

"Then what chance do we have?" Annabeth says. "We can't hold out another day."

"We'll have to," Bianca murmurs. "I'll see about setting some new traps around the perimeter."

She looks exhausted. Her jacket is smeared in grime and monster dust, but she manages to get to her feet and stagger off.

"I will help her," Chiron decides. "I should make sure my brethren don't go too overboard with the root beer."

Thalia thinks "too overboard" pretty much sums up the Party Ponies, but Chiron canters off, leaving Annabeth and her alone. Annabeth cleans the monster slime off her knife, something she only does when she's fidgety.

"At least your mom is okay," Thalia offers.

"If you call fighting Typhon okay," she locks eyes with her friend. "Thalia, even with the centaurs' help, I'm starting to think—"

"I know." There's this bad feeling, that this moment might be their last chance to talk. "Listen, I… I talked with Nico earlier. He's afraid…

"That I can't face Percy," she says miserably. "I know."

Annabeth frowns, "He's still alive inside his body somewhere, maybe even fighting Kronos for control. I saw it on the bridge, when Ethan stabbed you. For a moment his eyes were green, they were full of pain."

Annabeth tries to hide it, but Thalia can see her mind working on the possibilities, maybe starting to hope.

"I guess I understand how you feel, Annabeth," Thalia says. "But Nico's right. Percy's already betrayed you so many times. I don't want him to hurt you anymore. He's chosen his own path and there's nothing we can do about it now. We can't free him."

Annabeth purses her lips, trying not to get mad, "And you'll understand if I keep hoping there's a chance you're wrong."

Thalia looks away, realizing there's no point in arguing with her friend. Then, something dawns on her, "Oh my gods, Nico."

Thalia sprints out of the Empire State Building, not bothering to wait for Annabeth. The daughter of Athena sighs, looking out the window. Across the street, the Apollo campers had set up a field hospital to tend the wounded—dozens of campers and almost as many Hunters. She watches the medics work, and thinking about their slim chances for holding Mount Olympus...

And suddenly: she isn't there anymore.

She's standing in a long dingy bar with black walls, neon signs, and a bunch of partying adults. A banner across the bar reads HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BOBBY EARL. Country music plays on the speakers. Big guys in jeans and work shirts crowd the bar. Waitresses carry trays of drinks and shout at each other. It's pretty much the only party Thalia wouldn't bother never attending. Percy on the other hand, Annabeth isn't sure.

Annabeth's stuck in the very back of the room, next to the bathrooms (which didn't smell so great) and a couple of antique arcade games.

"Oh good, you're here," says the man at the Pac-Man machine. "I'll have a Diet Coke."

He's a pudgy guy in a leopard-skin Hawaiian shirt, purple shorts, red running shoes, and black socks, which don't exactly make him blend in with the crowd. His nose is bright red. A bandage is wrapped around his curly black hair like he's recovering from a concussion.

Annabeth blinks, "Mr. D?"

He sighs, not taking his eyes from the game. "Really, Anniebell, how long will it take for you to recognize me on sight?"

"About as long as it'll take for you to figure out my name," she mutters. "Where are we?"

"Why, Bobby Earl's birthday party," Dionysus says. "Somewhere in lovely rural America."

"I thought Typhon swatted you out of the sky. They said you crash-landed."

"Your concern is touching. I did crash-land. Very painfully. In fact, part of me is still buried under a hundred feet of rubble in an abandoned coal mine. It will be several more hours before I have enough strength to mend. But in the meantime, part of my consciousness is here."

"At a bar, playing Pac-Man?"

"Party time," Dionysus says. "Surely you've heard of it. Wherever there is a party, my presence is invoked. Because of this, I can exist in many different places at once. The only problem was finding a party. I don't know if you're aware how serious things are outside your safe little bubble of New York—"

"Safe little bubble? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"—but believe me, the mortals out here in the heartland are panicking. Typhon has terrified them. Very few are throwing parties. Apparently Bobby Earl and his friends, bless them, are a little slow. They haven't yet figured out that the world is ending."

She looks at him skeptically, "So... I'm not really here?"

"No. In a moment I'll send you back to your normal insignificant life, and it will be as if nothing had happened."

"And why did you bring me here?"

Dionysus snorts, "Oh, I didn't want you particularly. Any of you silly heroes would do. That Tiffany girl—"

"Thalia."

"The point is," he murmurs, "I pulled you into party time to deliver a warning. We are in danger."

"Gee," she says. "Never would've figured that out. Thanks."

He glares at her and momentarily forgetting his game. Just then, Pac-Man gets eaten by the red ghost dude.

"Erre es korakas, Blinky!" Dionysus curses. "I will have your soul!"

Again Annabeth stares at him, worried for his sanity, "Um, he's a video game character," she says.

"That's no excuse! And you're ruining my game, Chapel!"

"Chase."

"Whichever! Now listen, the situation is graver than you imagine. If Olympus falls, not only will the gods fade, but everything that is connected to our legacy will also begin to unravel. The very fabric of your puny little civilization—"

The game plays a song and Mr. D progresses to level 254.

"Ha!" he shouts. "Take that, you pixelated fiends!"

"Um, fabric of civilization," she prompts.

"Yes, yes. Your entire society will dissolve. Perhaps not right away, but mark my words, the chaos of the Titans will mean the end of Western civilization. Art, law, wine tastings, music, video games, silk shirts, black velvet paintings—all the things that make life worth living will disappear!"

"So why aren't the gods rushing back to help us?" Annabeth says. "We should combine forces at Olympus. Forget Typhon."

He snaps his fingers impatiently, "You forgot my Diet Coke."

"Gods, you're annoying," she grabs the attention of a waitress and orders the damn soda, putting it on Bobby Earl's tab.

Mr. D takes a good long drink, his eyes never leaving the video game, "The truth is, Bethany—"

"Annabeth."

"—the other gods would never admit this, but we actually need you mortals to rescue Olympus. You see, we are manifestations of your culture. If you don't care enough to save Olympus yourselves—"

"Like Pan," she says, "depending on the satyrs to save the Wild."

"Yes, quite. I will deny I ever said this, of course, but the gods need heroes. They always have. Otherwise we would not keep you annoying little brats around."

She sighs, "I feel so wanted. Thank you Mr. D."

"Use the training I have given you at camp."

"What training? I've only been attending Camp Half-Blood for a year!"

"You know. All those hero techniques and... No!" Mr. D slaps the game console. "Na pari i eychi! The last level!"

He looks at her, purple fire flickering in his eyes. "You must save Olympus, Annalise! Leave Typhon to the Olympians and save our own seats of power. It must be done!"

"Great," Annabeth says, rolling her eyes. "A nice little chat. Now, if you don't mind, my friends will be wondering—"

"There is more," Mr. D warns. "Kronos has not yet attained full power. The body of your boyfriend is only a temporary measure."

"We kind of guessed that."

"And did you also guess that within a day at most, Kronos will burn away that mortal body and take on the true form of a Titan king?"

The snarkiness leaves her voice, "And that would mean..."

Dionysus inserts another quarter, "You know about the true forms of the gods."

"Yeah. You can't look at them without burning up."

"Kronos would be ten times more powerful. His very presence would incinerate you. And once he achieves this, he will empower the other Titans. They are weak now, compared to what they will soon become, unless you can stop them. The world will fall, the gods will die, and I will never achieve a perfect score on this stupid machine."

Annabeth tries not to let him see the terror in her eyes.

"Can I go now?" she asks.

"One last thing. My son Pollux. Is he alive?"

She blinks, "Yeah, last I saw him."

"I would very much appreciate it if you could keep him that way. I lost his brother Castor last year—"

"I remember." Annabeth stares at him, trying to wrap her mind around the idea that Dionysus could be a caring father. She wonders how many other Olympians are thinking about their demigod children right now. Athena knows Annabeth misses Atalanta at the moment.

"I'll do my best."

"Your best," Dionysus mutters. "Well, isn't that reassuring? Go now. You have some nasty surprises to deal with, and I must defeat Blinky!"

"Nasty surprises?"

He waves his hand, and the bar disappears.

**Longest. Chapter. Ever.**

**And if you don't know already, the first story _Chosen Ones: The Hunted _has been nominated for the Veritas. So vote for me :DDD**


	9. Chapter 8

**Sorry for the wait, just got back from vacation and everything :P**

**And also, sorry for leaving you hanging. People are kind of bad at me for the whole Nico-got-stabbed thing. No, he's not dead. I don't have the heart to kill him, it would make me cry for an entire week. But he's actually feeling much better now, _ALOT better. *_wink, wink*... oh just get on to reading already!**

**Plaza Hotel—August 16**

Nico rolls his eyes, "Calm down. I got stabbed, so what? The wound's gone now thanks to Lee and the ambrosia."

They glare at each other, resting in a hotel room in the Plaza. A large bandage wraps around Nico's scarred midsection, his blood stained shirt lying forgotten on the floor. It'd been an at least an hour of their nonstop arguing.

"You shouldn't have taken that sword for me in the first place," Thalia hisses.

"You did it for me," Nico growls. "I was only returning the favor."

"But do you know how worried that made me!" she yells. "For a scary second I thought you were gonna die on me!"

He gives her a half-hearted smile, "Aw, look who actually gives a damn."

"Of course I fucking do! I l—" Thalia cuts herself off quickly, biting her tongue. Curiously, Nico leans into her, his face inches from hers, "What were you going to say?"

"Nothing," she mumbles, looking away.

Nico grabs her chin, forcing Thalia to look at him, "What were you going to say?" he repeats.

"Nothing!" she snaps, making a move to leave the hotel room. In one fluid motion he pins her to the wall.

"What were you going to say?" Nico demands, his tone slightly frustrated.

"I said nothing!" Thalia snarls, pushing him away. She grabs the door knob only to find Nico grasping her other arm. She turns, only to look into his desperate brown eyes. Thalia swallows hard, the muscles in her hand refusing to open the door. When Nico kisses her, it pretty much scares the shit out of Thalia.

Nico is unsurprised by her reaction; he can practically taste Thalia's fear. His tongue brushes along her bottom lip, demanding entrance. Thalia gives it to him, hesitantly. Yet, little by little she begins to grow with confidence.

Nico doesn't want to push her but naturally Thalia makes it difficult. She seems to make everything difficult. Her nails trace the muscles in his bare torso, at the same time using her strength to push Nico down on the bed. He wonders if Thalia doing this intentionally or subconsciously. Whatever the reason Nico has to admit: he enjoys having her on top of him. Even if it does cause him slight pain.

But at the same time it makes him confused. Nico never allowed himself to be touched, he would be the one to do all the touching, always the one who took control. That's how it was supposed to be.

When Nico switches their positions so that he's on top, straddling her hips, well Thalia's not surprised at all. She knows Nico better than anyone else and he's not exactly an aggressive person. But that seems to change in times of: a) monsters and b) sex.

Nico slips off Thalia's Camp Half-Blood t-shirt quicker than expected. That's only thing that really catches Thalia off guard. She knows this has to stop before it escalates any further. But then he kisses the sensitive spot near her collarbone and suddenly Thalia attempts to disregard the thoughts, lust clouding her mind.

_No. _She wants more, so _much more_. But it has to stop.

"Nico," she groans, pushing him away half-heartedly. Nico doesn't seem to notice. He bites and licks at her exposed neck his hand snaking its way up her bare back towards the clasp of her bra.

"_Nico,"_ Thalia says more forcefully, snapping him out of his daze.

Nico stares at her, first in confusion, then in realization, "I'm sorry Thalia. I—"

"Don't be sorry," she tells him quickly.

"I got carried away," Nico mutters. "I should've—"

Thalia kisses him lightly on the lips, smiling, "You really need to learn how to stop talking."

He gives her a small smirk, pulling her into another kiss. Someone clears their throat. Thalia and Nico's lips freeze, startled by the sudden intrusion.

Jason's there, his arms crossed over his chest. The look in his eye is extremely disapproving, "Thalia, Annabeth needs you downstairs in the lobby."

It's funny how when he says this he's not staring at Thalia at all, glaring daggers at Nico instead. Slowly, she pushes Nico off of her, not meeting either of their gazes.

"Okay," she sighs. Reluctantly, Jason leaves but not before casting Nico another murderous gaze. Thalia grabs her discarded shirt from the floor, putting it on. Just as she's ready to leave, Nico grabs her good shoulder.

She glances at him curiously. He plants a small kiss on her lips, cradling her face in his hands, "I love you, Thalia."

She closes her eyes, attempting to calm her racing pulse. _Swallow your fear dammit!_

"I love you too," she murmurs quickly, before leaving out the door.

"You needed me?"

Annabeth sighs, a grim look on her face, "They've sprung a white flag, a truce. A small party from the Titan Army is being escorted by the Hunters as we speak. We're to meet them in Central—….What's that on your neck?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Thalia lies smoothly.

The daughter of Athena scowls, grabbing Thalia's shoulder to get a better look at the large red mark on her friend's throat.

"What the fuck Thalia!" Annabeth snarls, releasing her grip on Thalia's shoulder. "We're in the middle of a fucking war!"

"I know that!" she snaps.

"And yet you spend your time being a horny teenager!"

"_Adult_!" Thalia retorts. "Besides why are you yelling at me? Nico was the one who gave me the fucking hickey. Why don't you yell at him!"

"Nico?"

Thalia goes silent.

Annabeth takes a deep breath, "I don't have time for this shit. We need to be in Central Park now to negotiate with those bastards."

"Then, why am I coming?" she protests.

"Well you are a leader and Nico's not in the best of shape… despite the fact he has enough energy to wanna fuck you. Besides, Terra's gonna be there, of course." Annabeth smiles for a moment, tossing Thalia Riptide.

Thalia's expression darkens as she glares at the blade, "Let's do this shit."

"Oh, so now you wanna go?" the daughter of Athena scoffs. "Come on, we're probably late already. And word of advice Thalia? Tell Nico to keep it in his pants."

She smirks, "What if I don't want him to keep it in his pants?"

"Then let's hope if Zeus gets a hold of that information Nico doesn't end up being castrated like Ouranos. Now shut up and let's go."

They can see the white flag from half a mile away. It's as big as a soccer field, carried by a thirty-foot-tall Hyperborean giant.

As the giant gets closer, they see three human-size envoys with him: a half-blood in armor, an _empousa_ demon with a black dress and flaming hair, and a tall man in a tuxedo.

The group walks leisurely toward the Heckscher Playground. The swings and ball courts are empty, the only sound coming from the fountain on Umpire Rock.

Thalia looks at Annabeth, "The tux dude is the Titan?"

"Sure is," Annabeth says. "Now shut up, here they come."

"You say shut up a lot," she mumbles.

The man in the tux steps forward. He's taller than an average human—about seven feet. His black hair is tied in a ponytail and dark round glasses cover his eyes. But what really catches their attention is the skin on his face. It's covered in scratches, like he'd been attacked by a really, _really_ mad hamster.

"Annabeth Chase," he says in a silky voice. "It's a great honor."

The _empousa_ hisses at her.

"My dear," Tux Dude says to her. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable over there, eh?"

She releases his arm and drifting over to a park bench.

Thalia glares at the armed demigod behind Tux Dude. She hadn't recognized her with the new helmet, but it's her old backstabbing buddy Terra.

"Nice neck, Grace," she murmurs.

Thalia smirks, "Just a gift from Nico."

Terra lunges but the Tux Dude extends his arm, holding her back.

"To business," he sticks out his hand. "I am Prometheus."

Annabeth raises her eyebrows, shaking is hand warily, "The fire-stealer chained to the rock with vultures?"

Prometheus winces, touching the scratches on his face, "Please, don't mention the vultures. But yes, I stole fire from the gods and gave it to your ancestors. In return, the ever merciful Zeus had me chained to a rock and tortured for all eternity."

"But—"

"How did I get free? Hercules did that, eons ago. So you see, I have a soft spot for heroes. Some of you can be quite civilized."

"Unlike the company you keep," Thalia notices.

She's looking at Terra, but Prometheus apparently mistakes this for the _empousa._

"Oh, demons aren't so bad," he says. "You just have to keep them well fed. Now, Annabeth Chase, let us parley."

He waves her towards a picnic table, to which Annabeth takes a seat. Thalia and Zoe stand behind her.

Prometheus sits forward, lacing his fingers. He looks earnest, kindly, and wise, "Annabeth, your position is weak. You know you can't stop another assault."

"We'll see."

Prometheus looks pained, like he really cares what happens to her, "Annabeth, I am the Titan of forethought. I know what's going to happen."

"Also the Titan of crafty counsel," Zoe buts in. "Emphasis on _crafty._"

Prometheus shrugs, "True enough, Hunter. But I supported the gods in the last war. I told Kronos: 'You don't have the strength. You'll lose.' And I was right. So you see, I know how to pick the winning side. This time, I'm backing Kronos."

"Because Zeus chained you to a rock," Thalia guesses.

"Partly, yes. I won't deny I want revenge on your father. But that's not the only reason I'm supporting Kronos. It's the wisest choice. I'm here because I thought you might listen to reason."

He draws a map on the table with his finger. Wherever he touched, golden lines appear, glowing on the concrete. "This is Manhattan. We have armies here, here, here, and here. We know your numbers. We outnumber you fifteen to one even with those centaurs you've managed to spring out of nowhere."

"Your spy has been keeping you posted," Annabeth murmurs.

Prometheus smiles apologetically, "At any rate, our forces are growing daily. Tonight, Kronos will attack. You will be overwhelmed. You've fought bravely, but there's just no way you can hold all of Manhattan. You'll be forced to retreat to the Empire State Building. There you'll be destroyed. I have seen this. It _will_ happen, Annabeth."

Prometheus speaks with such certainty it's hard not to believe him.

"I won't let it happen," she says confidentially.

Prometheus brushes a speck off his tux lapel. "Please understand, my. You are re-fighting the Trojan War here. Patterns repeat themselves in history. They reappear just as monsters do. A great siege. Two armies. The only difference is, this time you are defending. _You_ are Troy. And you know what happened to the Trojans, don't you?"

"So you're going to cram a wooden horse into the elevator at the Empire State Building?" Thalia asks. "Good luck with that."

Prometheus smiles, "Troy was completely destroyed, Annabeth. You don't want that to happen here. Stand down, and New York will be spared. Your forces will be granted amnesty. I will personally assure your safety. Let Kronos take Olympus. Who cares? Typhon will destroy the gods any way."

Zoe scowls, "And we are supposed to believe Kronos will spare the city?"

"All he wants is Olympus," Prometheus promises. "The might of the gods is tied to their seats of power. You saw what happened to Poseidon once his undersea palace was attacked. When Kronos destroys Olympus, the gods will fade. They will become so weak they will be easily defeated. Kronos would rather do this while Typhon has the Olympians distracted in the west_._ Much easier. Fewer lives lost. But make no mistake, the best you can do is slow us down. The day after tomorrow, Typhon arrives in New York, and you will have no chance at all. The gods and Mount Olympus will still be destroyed, but it will be much messier. Much, much worse for you and your city. Either way, the Titans will rule."

Zoe pounds her fist on the table, "I serve Artemis. The Hunters will fight to our last breath."

Thalia rolls her eyes, "Chase, you're not seriously going to listen to this slimeball, are you?"

"You need not be my enemy ladies. I have always been a helper of mankind."

"That's a load of Minotaur dung," Thalia says. "When mankind first sacrificed to the gods, you tricked them into giving you the best portion. You gave us fire to annoy the gods, not because you cared about us."

Prometheus shakes his head, "You don't understand. I helped shape your nature."

A wiggling lump of clay appears in his hands. He fashions it into a little doll with legs and arms. The lump man doesn't have any eyes, but it gropes around the table, stumbling over Prometheus's fingers. "I have been whispering in man's ear since the beginning of your existence. I represent your curiosity, your sense of exploration, your inventiveness. Help me save you, Annabeth. Do this, and I will give mankind a new gift—a new revelation that will move you as far forward as fire did. You can't make that kind of advance under the gods. They would never allow it. But this could be a new golden age for you. Or..." He makes a fist and smashes the clay man into a pancake.

"Annabeth, you know the Titans and their offspring are not all bad," Prometheus says. "You've met Zoe of course. And there's Calypso, you've met her once haven't you?"

Thalia looks at her friend questioningly, "What?"

Annabeth doesn't bat an eyelash, "But they are different."

"How? Much like me, Calypso did nothing wrong, and yet she was exiled forever simply because she was Atlas's daughter. We are not your enemies. Don't let the worst happen," he pleads. "We offer you peace."

Thalia looks at Terra, "You must hate this."

"I don't know what you mean."

"If we took this deal, you wouldn't get revenge. You wouldn't get to kill us all. Isn't that what you want?"

Her eyes flare, "All I want is respect, Thalia. The gods—none of you—ever gave me that. All my life I've felt unimportant, unrecognized.

Thalia looks at her innocently, "Your mom's the goddess of revenge. Shouldn't we respect that?"

"Nemesis stands for balance! When people have too much good luck, she tears them down."

"Which is why she took Ethan's eye?" Thalia retorts, grinning at the surprised look on her face. "Yeah, I've heard about that."

"It was payment," she growls. "In exchange, she swore to him that one day he would tip the balance of power. Both of us will bring the minor gods respect. An eye is a small price to pay."

"Great mom."

"At least she keeps her word, unlike the Olympians. She always pays her debts—good or evil."

"Yeah," Thalia murmurs. "So I save your life a billion times, and you repay me by raising Kronos and trying to kill me. That's fair."

Terra grabs the hilt of her sword, but Prometheus stops her.

"Now, now," the Titan says he eyes never leaving Annabeth's. "We're on a diplomatic mission."

Prometheus studies the daughter of Athena as if trying to understand what's going through her mind. Then he nods like he's picked a thought from her brain.

The Titan reaches out.

Zoe cries out a warning, but before Annabeth can react, Prometheus's index finger touches her forehead.

She sees a single image, a dark-haired little girl sleeping on the floor of an enemy's tent.

The image fades. Prometheus pulls his hand away, waiting for Annabeth's reaction, "We have her. She's safe, alive. It's not too late for her to be returned to you."

"Annabeth?" Thalia asks. "What... what's he talking about?"

Annabeth's voice is stuck in her throat, her hands clammy with sweat.

Prometheus nods sympathetically, "A terrible shame when children have to suffer the consequences of their parents' actions."

Annabeth's too stunned to answer.

"Annabeth," Zoe warns, "he plays with thou mind. Trying to make thee angry."

"If you surrender, you half-bloods will be spared. Atalanta will be returned, and you're won't have to be burned to ashes. Kronos offers you a much better deal."

She clenches her fists. As much as she hates Prometheus and his crafty ways, but if anything she hates Kronos even more. "I'll give you a deal. Tell Kronos to call off his attack, leave Percy Jackson's body, give us back Atalanta, and return to the pits of Tartarus. Then maybe we won't have to destroy him,"

"I definitely like that deal a lot better," Thalia says, grinning.

The _empousa_ snarls. Her hair erupts in fresh flames, but Prometheus just sighs.

"If you change your mind," he says, "I have a gift for you."

A Greek vase appears on the table. Its three feet high and a foot wide, glazed with black-and-white geometric designs. The ceramic lid is fastened with a leather harness.

Thalia's eyes widen.

Zoe gasps, "That is not—"

"Yes," Prometheus says. "You recognize it."

Looking at the jar, Annabeth feels a strange sense of fear, having no idea why.

"This belonged to my sister-in-law," Prometheus explains. "Pandora."

Thalia clears her throat, "As in Pandora's box?"

Prometheus shakes his head, "I don't know how this _box_ business got started. It was never a box. It was a _pithos,_ a storage jar. I suppose Pandora's _pithos_ doesn't have the same ring to it, but never mind that. Yes, she did open this jar, which contained most of the demons that now haunt mankind—fear, death, hunger, sickness."

"Don't forget me," the _empousa_ purrs.

"Indeed," Prometheus concedes. "The first _empousa_ was also trapped in this jar, released by Pandora. But what I find curious about the story—Pandora always gets the blame. She is punished for being curious. The gods would have you believe that this is the lesson: mankind should not explore. They should not ask questions. They should do what they are told. In truth, Annabeth, this jar was a trap designed by Zeus and the other gods. It was revenge on _me_ and my entire family—my poor simple brother Epimetheus and his wife Pandora. The gods knew she would open the jar. They were willing to punish the entire race of humanity along with us."

Prometheus continues to toy with her mind.

_But what if he's right?_ part of Annabeth wonders. _How are the gods any better than the Titans?_

She's seen the gods cruelty first hand. She'd heard of how the curse of the Chosen Ones started, Hecate's son killed by Zeus simply because he'd fallen in love with his daughter. Last year she'd heard of the death of Nico's mom, again caused by Zeus. And the other Olympians did nothing, only siding with there king.

Prometheus taps the lid of Pandora's jar, "Only one spirit remained inside when Pandora opened it."

"Hope," Annabeth says automatically.

Prometheus looks pleased, "Very good, Annabeth. Elpis, the Spirit of Hope, would not abandon humanity. Hope does not leave without being given permission. She can only be released by a child of man."

The Titan slides the jar across the table.

"I give you this as a reminder of what the gods are like," he says. "Though you probably need no reminder. Keep Elpis, if you wish. But if you decide that you have seen enough destruction, enough futile suffering, then open the jar. Let Elpis go. Give up Hope, and I will know that you are surrendering. I promise Kronos will be lenient. He will spare the survivors."

Annabeth stares at the jar, getting a very bad feeling, "I don't want the thing," she growls.

"Too late," Prometheus says. "The gift is given. It cannot be taken back."

He stands. The _empousa_ comes forward, slipping her arm through his.

"Morrain!" Prometheus calls to the blue giant. "We are leaving. Get your flag."

"Uh-oh," the giant says.

"We will see you soon, Annabeth Chase," Prometheus promises. "One way or another."

Terra gives them one last hateful look. Then the truce party turns, strolling up the lane through Central Park, like it's just another regular Sunday afternoon.

**And if you don't know already, the first story _Chosen Ones: The Hunted _has been nominated for the Veritas. So vote for me :DDD**


	10. Chapter 9

"How was it?" Nico asks them as they wander in through the lobby to the Plaza Hotel.

"Awful," Annabeth and Thalia mutter at the same time, handing Jake Mason Pandora's _pithos_.

"Lock it in the hotel vault," Annabeth tells him. "Make sure no one gets their hands on it, okay?"

"Travis!" Thalia snaps angrily. "I thought I told you to get me a beer!"

The son of Hermes hands it to her, rolling his eyes. She unscrews the lid, drowning down half the bottle before looking back at Annabeth.

"What?" she murmurs.

Thalia keeps staring at her, "Well, what do you suggest we do now Captain?"

"Sure let Annabeth do all the work!" she retorts, closing her eyes for a moment to think. "Nico, stay here and grab reports from Lee Fletcher. We need a head count on our wounded but try not to exert yourself too much. Call me when you're done. Thalia, we're heading to the Empire State Building to count the rest."

They're just outside the Empire State Building when they see something white swooping down from the sky. Instinctively, the grab their weapons. A white Pegasus lands on the sidewalk, a familiar face greeting them.

"Rachel?" Annabeth says in disbelief.

"No it's Chiron," the oracle retorts, rolling her eyes. She jumps off the horse's back, walking over to them.

Thalia's loses the grip on her knife, glaring at Rachel, "What the fuck are you doing flying the middle of a war zone? Do you have some kind of strange death wish, Dare?"

Rachel scowls, "You know, a _Hi, Rachel!_ would've done nicely. But if you must know, I've got a message to deliver."

"Go on," Annabeth mumbles.

"You're not the hero Annabeth," Rachel says seriously. "None of you are."

Thalia scoffs, "So what? You came all the way to Manhattan to tell us we aren't the heroes?"

"It's important," Rachel insists. "It will affect what you do."

"What do you mean?"

"That's all I know. I'm sorry," she tells them.

"Okay," Annabeth says. "Well we're busy Rachel. If you're gonna stay—"

Rachel flinches like she's just received an electric shock, "Annabeth, something is about to happen. A trick that ends in death."

"What do you mean? Whose death?"

"I don't know." She looks around nervously, "Don't you feel it?"

Annabeth makes a move to say something but the door to the Empire State Building swings open. Chiron trots out, a surprised look on his face.

"Rachel?"

"It isn't enough," Annabeth murmurs.

"You've said that for the thousandth time this week," Thalia tells her as they make their way past Apollo kids tending to the injured. "Stop being a downer."

"Stop being a downer," Annabeth repeats miserably.

Thalia stares at her, "When's the last time you've slept."

"Everyone keeps telling me to sleep," she grumbles. "I don't need sleep."

She raises an eyebrow, "Really, Annabeth? Have you seen yourself lately?"

Annabeth glances down at her clothes, which have been scorched, burned, sliced, and tattered from her night of constant battles. She sighs, "Well, I look like shit."

"You sure do," Thalia agrees. "Come on, Nico and I'll keep everybody in line. Just get some rest Annabeth, okay? You'll have more energy to fight later on."

"Whatever," she mumbles. "Do whatever you want."

Annabeth trudges toward the lobby, finding at empty bunk. She collapses on top of it; pretty sure she won't be able to fall asleep. A second later, Annabeth closes her eyes.

In her dream, she's standing outside the United Nations, about a mile northeast of the Empire State Building. The Titan army has set camp all around the UN complex. On the flagpoles are trophies, horrible ones—helmets and armor pieces from defeated campers. All along First Avenue, giants sharpen their axes. Telekhines repair armor at makeshift forges.

Kronos himself paces at the top of the plaza, swinging his scythe so his _dracanae_ bodyguards distance himself from him. Ethan Nakamura and Prometheus stand nearby, out of slicing range. Ethan fidgets with his shield straps, but Prometheus looks as calm and collected as ever in his tuxedo.

"I hate this place," Kronos growls. "_United Nations._ As if mankind could ever unite. Remind me to tear down this building after we destroy Olympus."

"Yes, lord," Prometheus smiles as if his master's anger amuses him. "Shall we tear down the stables in Central Park too? I know how much horses can annoy you."

"Don't mock me, Prometheus! Those cursed centaurs will be sorry they interfered. I will feed them to the hellhounds, starting with that son of mine—that weakling Chiron."

Prometheus shrugs, "That weakling destroyed an entire legion of telekhines with his arrows."

Kronos swings his scythe and cutting a flagpole in half. The national colors of Brazil topple into the army, squashing a _dracanae._

"We will destroy them!" Kronos roars. "It is time to unleash the drakon. Nakamura, you will do this."

"Y-yes, lord. At sunset?"

"No," Kronos said. "Immediately. The defenders of Olympus are badly wounded. They will not expect a quick attack. Besides, we know this drakon they cannot beat."

Ethan looks confused. "My lord?"

"Never you mind, Nakamura. Just do my bidding, and bring Terra along to make sure you don't screw up. I want Olympus in ruins by the time Typhon reaches New York. We will break the gods utterly!"

"But, my lord," Ethan says. "Your regeneration."

Kronos points at Ethan, and the demigod freezes on sight.

"Does it seem, that I _need_ to regenerate?" Kronos hisses

Ethan doesn't respond. Which _is _kind of hard to do when you're immobilized in time.

Kronos snaps his fingers and Ethan collapses.

"Soon," the Titan growls, "this form will be unnecessary. I will not rest with victory so close. Now, go!"

Ethan scrambles away.

"This is dangerous, my lord," Prometheus warns. "Do not be hasty."

"Hasty? After festering for three thousand years in the depths of Tartarus, you call me hasty? I will slice Hecate's half-bloods into a thousand pieces."

"Many times you've fought them," Prometheus points out. "And yet you've always said it is beneath the dignity of a Titan to fight a mere mortal. I wonder if your mortal host is influencing you, weakening your judgment."

Kronos turns his golden eyes on the other Titan. "You call me weak?"

"No, my lord. I only meant—"

"Are your loyalties divided?" Kronos asks. "Perhaps you miss your old friends, the gods. Would you like to join them?"

Prometheus pales, "I misspoke, my lord. Your orders will be carried out." He turns to the armies and shouts, "PREPARE FOR BATTLE!"

The troops begin to stir.

From somewhere behind the UN compound, an angry roar shakes the city—the sound of a drakon waking. The noise, as horrible as it is, wakes Annabeth from her sleep. It takes a moment for her to realize she can still hear it from a mile away.

Grover stands beside her, nervous, "What was that?"

"They're coming," she tells him. "And we're in trouble."

**Manhattan, NY—August 17**

The Hephaestus cabin is out of Greek fire. The Apollo cabin and the Hunters are going around scrounging for arrows. Most of the campers have already ingested so much ambrosia and nectar they dare not take any more.

All in all they have sixteen campers, fifteen Hunters, and half a dozen satyrs left in fighting shape.

The rest are taking refuge on Olympus. The Party Ponies try to form ranks, but they stagger and giggle, all of them smelling like root beer. The Texans are head-butting the Coloradoans, the Missouri branch is arguing with Illinois. Chances are the whole army will end up fighting each other rather than the enemy.

Chiron trots up with Rachel on his back.

"A drakon," Chiron tells Annabeth. "A Lydian drakon, to be exact. The oldest and most dangerous kind."

Annabeth stares at them, "How did you know that?"

"Not sure," Rachel admits. "But this drakon has a particular fate. It will be killed by a child of Ares."

Thalia crosses her arms, "How can you possibly know that?"

"I just saw it. I can't explain."

"Well, let's hope you're wrong," Annabeth mumbles. "Because we're a little short on children of Ares…" Just then, a horrible thought occurs to her. "Fuck!" she hisses angrily.

"What?" Thalia asks.

"The spy," she tells her. "Kronos said, _We know they cannot beat this drakon._ The spy has been keeping him updated. Kronos knows the Ares cabin isn't with us. He intentionally picked a monster we can't kill."

Thalia scowls, "If I ever catch this spy, he's going to be very sorry. Maybe we could send another messenger to camp—"

"I've already done it," Chiron says. "Blackjack is on his way. I sent Malcolm and Piper before but if they weren't able to convince Rafael, I doubt Blackjack will be able—"

Another roar makes the ground rumble, this one much closer.

"Rachel," Chiron warns, "get inside the building."

"I want to stay."

A shadow blots out the sun. Across the street, a giant serpent slithers down the side of a skyscraper. It roars, a thousand windows shattering on impact.

"On second thought," Rachel says in a small voice, "I'll be inside."

Now Daedalus had told Annabeth about drakons, they even have drakon-fighting classes at camp, but there's no way to prepare yourself for a two-hundred-foot-long serpent as thick as a school bus slithering down the side of a building, its yellow eyes like searchlights and its mouth full of razor-sharp teeth big enough to chew elephants.

Thalia sighs, "I'd rather take on the flying pig again."

The enemy army advances down Fifth Avenue. Campers and Hunters do their best to push cars out of the way to keep mortals safe. But of course that just makes it easier for the enemies to approach. The Party Ponies swish their tails nervously. Chiron gallops up and down their ranks, shouting encouragement to stand tough and think about victory and root beer. But any second Annabeth figures they'll panic and run.

"I'll take the drakon!" she shouts. "Everyone else, hold the line against the army!"

Thalia looks at her expectantly.

"Will you help me?" Annabeth asks.

"That's what I do," she murmurs. "I help my friends. Besides, Nico's checked out of the action."

Annabeth gaze tightens, "What do you mean?"

"He had an idea, while you were sleeping," Thalia tells her. "I'm not sure if it'll work but… right now I guess were desperate for anything."

The daughter of Athena nods, trying to hide the disappointment in her face.

"Go invisible," Thalia says. "Look for weak links in its armor while I keep it busy. Just be careful."

She whistles, "Mrs. O'Leary, heel!"

Her hellhound leaps over a line of centaurs, giving Thalia a kiss that smells suspiciously of pepperoni pizza. She grimaces, drawing her—Percy's—sword.

Three stories above them, the drakon slithers sideways along the building, sizing up the opposing forces. Wherever it looks, centaurs freeze. From the north, the enemy army crashes into the Party Ponies, and their lines breaking. The drakon lashes out, swallowing three Californian centaurs in one gulp before Thalia can even get close.

Mrs. O'Leary launches herself through the air—a deadly black shadow with teeth and claws. Her claws rake harmlessly off the drakon's scales. She bites the monster's throat but she can't seem to make a dent. Her weight, however, is enough to knock the drakon off the side of the building. It flails awkwardly, crashing into the sidewalk, hellhound and serpent twisting and thrashing. The drakon tries to bite Mrs. O'Leary, but she's too close to the serpent's mouth. Poison spews everywhere, melting centaurs into dust along with a few monsters. Mrs. O'Leary weaves around the serpent's head, scratching and biting.

Thalia plunges her sword deep into the monster's left eye. The spotlight goes dark. The drakon hisses, rearing back to strike but she rolls aside.

It bites a chunk out of the pavement, looking at Thalia with its good eye. She focuses on its teeth to avoid getting paralyzed. Mrs. O'Leary does her best to cause a distraction. She leaps onto the serpent's head, scratching and growling like an angry black wig.

The rest of the battle isn't going as well. Centaurs panic under the onslaught of giants and demons. An occasional orange camp T-shirt appears in the sea of fighting, but quickly disappears. Arrows scream. Fire explodes in waves across both armies, but the action moves across the street to the entrance of the Empire State Building. They're losing ground.

Suddenly Annabeth materializes on the drakon's back. Her invisibility cap rolls off her head as she drives her bronze knife between a chink in the serpent's scales.

The drakon roars, coiling around, knocking Annabeth off its back.

Thalia reaches her just as she hits the ground. She drags Annabeth out of the way as the serpent rolls, crushing a lamppost right where she'd just been.

"Thanks," Annabeth says.

"See what happens when you're not careful?" Thalia scolds.

"Yeah, well, DUCK!"

She tackles Thalia to the ground as the monster's teeth snap right above her head. Mrs. O'Leary body-slams the drakon's face to get its attention, both half-bloods rolling out of the way.

Meanwhile, their allies retreat to the doors of the Empire State Building, the entire enemy army surrounding them. It's just like the scene Prometheus had predicted. They're out of options and no more help is coming to rescue them. Eventually Annabeth and Thalia will have to retreat before they're cut off from Mount Olympus.

Then they hear a rumbling from the south. It isn't a sound you hear much in New York, but they recognize it immediately: chariot wheels.

A guy's voice yells, "ARES!"

A dozen or so war chariots charge into battle. Each fly a red banner with the symbol of the wild boar's head. Each is pulled by a team of skeletal horses with manes of fire. A total of thirty fresh warriors, armor gleaming and eyes full of hate, lower their lances as one—making a bristling wall of death.

"The children of Ares!" Annabeth says in amazement. "How did Rachel know?"

"Well," Thalia points out. "She isn't called the oracle for nothing."

Leading the charge is a half-blood in familiar red armor, his face covered by a boar's-head helm. He holds aloft a spear crackling with electricity. Rafael himself had come to rescue them.

While half his chariots charge the monster army, Rafael leads the other six straight for the drakon.

The serpent rears back, throwing off Mrs. O'Leary who hits the side of the building with a yelp. Thalia and Annabeth run to help her, but the serpent already zeroes in on the new threat. Even with only one eye, its glare is enough to paralyze two chariot drivers. They veer off into a line of cars. The other four chariots keep charging. The monster bares its fangs to strike, getting a mouthful of Celestial bronze javelins.

The serpent screeches in pain.

"Ares, to me!" Rafael screams. His voice isn't as deep as Thalia remembers but she's not suprised given what he's fighting against.

Across the street, the arrival of six chariots gives the Party Ponies new hope. They rally at the doors of the Empire State Building, the enemy army momentarily thrown into confusion.

Rafael's chariots circle the drakon. Lances break against the monster's skin. Skeletal horses breathe fire and whinny. Two more chariots overturn, but the warriors simply leap to their feet, drawing their swords. They hack at chinks in the creature's scales, dodging poison spray like they've been training for this all their lives, which of course they have.

No one can say the Ares campers aren't brave. Rafael's right there in front of the drakon, stabbing his spear at the monster's face, trying to put out its other eye.

But as Annabeth and Thalia watch on, things start to go wrong. The drakon swallows an Ares camper in a gulp. It knocks aside another and spraying poison on a third, who retreats in a panic, his armor melting.

"We have to help," Annabeth says.

It takes a moment for Thalia's realize she's just been standing there, frozen in amazement. Mrs. O'Leary tries to get up but yelps again, one of her paws bleeding.

"Stay back, girl," Thalia tells her. "You've done enough already."

Annabeth and Thalia jump onto the monster's back, running towards its head, trying to draw attention away from Rafael.

His cabinmates throw javelins, most of which break, but some lodge in the monster's teeth. It snaps its jaws together, soon its mouth a mess of green blood, yellow foamy poison, and splintered weapons.

"You can do it!" Thalia screams at Rafael. "A child of Ares is destined to kill it!"

Through his war helmet, Thalia can only see his eyes but she can tell something's wrong. His gray eyes shine with fear. Rafael never looks like that. And he doesn't _have_ gray eyes.

"ARES!" he shouts, in that strange tenor voice. He levels his spear, charging the drakon.

"No," Annabeth mutters. "WAIT!"

But the monster looks down at him—almost in contempt—spitting poison directly in his face.

He screams, falling to his knees.

"Rafael!" Annabeth jumps off the monster's back, running to help, while the other Ares campers try to defend their fallen counselor. Thalia drives her sword between two of the creature's scales, managing to turn its attention on her.

Thalia gets thrown off but manages to land on her feet, "C'MON, you stupid worm! Look at me!"

For the next several minutes, all she sees is teeth. She retreats, dodging poison, but for some reason she can't hurt the damn thing.

At the edge of her vision, she sees a flying chariot land on Fifth Avenue. Someone runs towards them, a guy's voice, shaken with grief and anger, shouts, "NO! Curse you, WHY?"

Thalia dares to glance over, but what she sees makes no sense. Rafael lies on the ground where he'd fallen. His armor smoked with poison. Annabeth and the Ares campers try to unfasten his helmet. And kneeling next to them, his face filled with fury and pain, is a guy in camp clothes. It's... Rafael.

Thalia's so stunned; the drakon almost snaps her in half. Thalia dodges, the beast burying its head in a brick wall.

"WHY?" The real Rafael Hernandez demands, holding the other guy in his arms while the campers struggle to remove the poison-corroded helmet.

Piper runs over from the flying chariot. She and Rafael must've rid it from camp, chasing the Ares campers, who'd mistakenly been following the other camper, thinking he was Rafael. But it still makes no sense.

The drakon tugs its head from the brick wall, screaming in rage.

"Look out!" Piper warns.

Instead of turning toward Thalia, the drakon whirls around towards the sound of Piper's voice. It bares its fangs at the group of demigods.

The real Rafael looks up at the drakon, his face filled with absolute hate.

"YOU WANT DEATH?" he roars at the drakon. "WELL, COME ON!"

He grabs his spear from the fallen camper. With no armor or shield, he charges the drakon.

Thalia tries to close the distance to help, but Rafael is faster. He leaps aside as the monster strikes, pulverizing the ground in front of him. He jumps onto the creature's head. As it rears up, he drives his electric spear into its good eye with so much force it shatters the shaft, releasing all of the magic weapon's power.

Electricity arcs across the creature's head, causing its whole body to shudder. Rafael jumps free, rolling safely to the sidewalk as smoke boils from the drakon's mouth. The drakon's flesh dissolves, collapsing into a hollow scaly tunnel of armor.

The rest of them stare at Rafael in awe. None of them had seen anyone take down such a huge monster single-handedly. But Rafael doesn't seem to care. He runs back to the wounded camper who'd stolen his armor.

Finally Annabeth manages to remove the guy's helmet. They all gather around: the Ares campers, Piper, Malcolm, Annabeth, and Thalia. The battle still rages along Fifth Avenue, but for the moment nothing seems to exist. Only their small circle and the fallen camper.

His features, ones that once resembled Annabeth's, are badly burned from poison. All of them can tell that no amount of nectar or ambrosia could save him.

_Something is about to happen._ Rachel's words ring in Annabeth's ears. _A trick that ends in death._

Now she knows what Rachel had meant, and she knows who had led the Ares cabin into battle. Annabeth looks down at the dying face of her brother Malcolm.

"What were you thinking?" Rafael says, as Annabeth cradles her brother's head in her lap.

Malcolm tries to swallow, but his lips are dry and cracked, "Wouldn't... listen. Cabin would... only follow you."

"So you stole my armor," Rafael says in disbelief. "You waited until Piper and I went out on patrol; you stole my armor and pretended to be me." He glares at her siblings, "And NONE of you noticed?"

The Ares campers develop a sudden interest in their combat boots.

"Don't blame them," Malcolm says. "They wanted to... to believe I was you."

"You _stupid_ Athena kid," Rafael growls, his voice cracking. "You charged a drakon? _Why?_"

"All my fault," Malcolm says, a tear streaking the side of his face. "The drakon, Leo's death . . . camp endangered—"

"Stop it!" Rafael says. "That's not true, you had nothing to do with Leo's death."

Malcolm raises his hand, grabbing his camp necklace. Amongst the colorful beads is a scythe charm, the mark of Kronos.

A cold fist closes around Annabeth's heart, "You were the spy."

Malcolm tries to nod, "After... after Leo was banished from Camp Half-Blood. Ethan… he used to be close, with all of us. Then he ran away. I kept him posted; I promised him we'd bring respect to the minor gods. Later, I wanted to stop helping him, but he threatened to tell. He promised... he promised I was saving lives. Fewer people would get hurt. He was my friend… so I believed him. He lied to me."

Thalia meets Annabeth's eyes. Her face is chalky. She looks like somebody had just yanked the world out from under her feet. Behind them, the battle rages on.

Rafael scowls at his cabin mates, "Go, help the centaurs. Protect the doors. GO!"

They scramble off to join the fight.

Malcolm takes a heavy, painful breath, "Forgive me."

"You're not dying," Rafael insists.

"Leo..." Malcolm's eyes are a million miles away. "See Leo..."

He doesn't speak again. Rafael sinks to his knees, tears escaping his eyes. Piper puts a hand on his shoulder.

Annabeth swallows hard, closing Malcolm's eyes.

"We have to fight." Annabeth says, her voice brittle. "He gave his life to help us. We have to honor him."

Rafael wipes the tear from his face, "He was a hero, understand? A hero."

Thalia nods, "Come on."

He picks up a sword from one of his fallen siblings, "Kronos is going to pay."

Even without his armor or spear, Rafael's a demon. He rides his chariot straight into the Titan's army, crushing everything in his path. Inspired, the panic centaurs begin to rally. The Hunters scrounge arrows from the fallen, launching volley after volley into the enemy. The Ares cabin slash and hack their way through enemy lines, having a blast. The monsters retreat towards 35th Street.

Rafael drives to the drakon's carcass, looping a grappling line through its eye sockets. He lashes his horses and takes off, dragging the drakon behind the chariot like a Chinese New Year dragon.

He charges after the enemy, yelling insults, daring them to cross him. As he rides, an aura of red fire flickers around him.

"The blessing of Ares," Thalia says. "I've never seen it in person before."

The enemies throw spears and arrows, but nothing hits him. For a moment he's practically invincible.

"I AM RAFAEL, DRAKON-SLAYER!" he yells. "I will kill you ALL! Where is Kronos? Bring him out! Is he a coward?"

"Rafe!" Annabeth yells. "Stop it. Withdraw!"

"What's the matter, Titan lord?" he shouts. "BRING IT ON!"

There's no answer from the enemy. Slowly, they begin to fall back behind a _dracanae_ shield wall, while Rafael drives in circles around Fifth Avenue, daring anyone to cross his path. The two-hundred-foot-long drakon carcass makes a hollow scraping noise against the pavement, like a thousand knives.

Meanwhile, the others tend to the wounded, bringing them inside the lobby. Long after the enemy retreats from sight, Rafael keeps riding up and down the avenue with his horrible trophy, demanding that Kronos meets him battle.

Piper sighs, "I'll watch him. He'll get tired eventually. I'll make sure he comes inside."

**Manhattan, NY—August 18**

The doorman had disappeared from the lobby. His book lies face down on the desk, his chair empty. The rest of the lobby, however, is jam-packed with wounded campers, Hunters, and satyrs.

Connor and Travis Stoll meet Thalia and Annabeth by the elevators.

"Is it true?" Connor asks. "About Malcolm?"

Thalia nods, "He died a hero."

Travis shifts uncomfortably, "Um, I also heard—"

"That's it," Annabeth insists. "End of story."

"Right," Travis mumbles. "Listen, we figure the Titan's army will have trouble getting up the elevator. They'll have to go up a few at a time. And the giants won't be able to fit at all."

"That's our biggest advantage," Annabeth says. "Any way to disable the elevator?"

"It's magic," Travis said. "Usually you need a key card, but the doorman vanished. That means the defenses are crumbling. Anyone can walk into the elevator now and head straight up."

"Then we have to keep them away from the doors," Thalia says. "We'll bottle them up in the lobby."

"We need reinforcements," Travis says. "They'll just keep coming. Eventually they'll overwhelm us."

"There are no reinforcements," Connor complains.

Thalia looks outside at Mrs. O'Leary, breathing against the glass doors and smearing them with hellhound drool.

"Maybe that's not true," she says.

She goes outside, putting a hand on Mrs. O'Leary's muzzle. Chiron had bandaged her paw, but she's still limping, her fur caked with mud, leaves, pizza slices, and dried monster blood.

"Hey, girl." Thalia does her best to sound upbeat. "I know you're tired, but I've got one more big favor to ask you." she leans in next to her, whispering in her ear.

After Mrs. O'Leary shadow-travels away, Thalia rejoins them in the lobby.

On the way to the elevator, they spot Grover kneeling over a fat wounded satyr.

"Leneus?" they say in unison.

The old satyr looks terrible. A broken spear protrudes from his belly, his furry goat legs twisted in a painful angle. He tries to focus on Thalia and Annabeth, but his eyes glaze over, as if he can't see them at all.

"Grover?" he murmurs.

"I'm here, Leneus," Grover whispers, depressed.

"Did... did we win?"

"Um... yes," Grover lies. "Thanks to you, Leneus. We drove the enemy away."

"Told you," the old satyr mumbles. "True leader. True..."

He closes his eyes for the last time. Grover gulps, putting his hand on Leneus's forehead, speaking an ancient blessing. The old satyr's body melts, until all that's left is a tiny sapling in a pile of fresh soil.

"A laurel," Grover says in awe. "Oh, that lucky old goat."

He gathers up the sapling in his hands, "I should plant him. In Olympus, in the gardens."

"We're going that way," Annabeth says. "Come on."

Easy-listening music plays as the elevator rose. They're all silent, their eyes are fixed on the elevator floors as they blink off into the magical numbers: 400, 450, 500.

Grover and Thalia exchange glances.

"Annabeth," Thalia sighs. "I'm sorry—"

"It's fine." Her voice is shaky. "The Titans... they've taken everything from me. And… and if Percy really joined them, then he's no good. I didn't believe you or Nico and… now I know. I hope you're happy."

"That doesn't make me happy." Thalia tells her. "You loved him, Annabeth. He was like my brother, a really annoying brother, but still."

She rests her head against the elevator wall, refusing to look at Thalia.

Grover cradles the laurel sapling in his hands. "Well... it's been good to see you kids together again. Arguing. Almost dying. Abject terror. Oh, look. It's our floor."

The doors ding and they step out onto the aerial walkway.

_Depressing_ is not a word that usually describes Mount Olympus, but it looks that way now. No fires light the braziers. The windows are dark. The streets are deserted and the doors are barred. The only movement is in the parks, which had been set up as field hospitals. Lee Fletcher and the other Apollo campers scramble around, caring for the wounded. Naiads and dryads try to help, using nature magic songs to heal burns and poison.

As Grover plants the laurel sapling, Annabeth and Thalia go around trying to cheer up the wounded. They pass a satyr with a broken leg, a demigod who bandaged from head to toe, and a body covered in the golden burial shroud of Apollo's cabin. They're not sure who's underneath but they don't exactly want to find out either.

Annabeth heart feels like lead, but she tries to find positive things to say.

"You'll be up and fighting Titans in no time!" Thalia tells one camper.

"You look great," Annabeth tells another.

"Leneus turned into a shrub!" Grover tells a groaning satyr.

Soon, Annabeth comes across the son of Dionysus, Pollux, propped up against a tree. He has a broken arm, but is otherwise okay.

"I can still fight with the other hand," he says, gritting his teeth.

"No," Annabeth tells him. "You've done enough. I want you to stay here and help with the wounded."

"But—"

"Promise me to stay safe," she says. "Okay? Personal favor."

He frowns in uncertainty. It's not like Annabeth and him are good friends or anything, but she isn't going to tell him it's a request from his dad. That would just embarrass him. Finally he promises to stay, sitting back down. Annabeth can tell he looks slightly relieved.

Annabeth, Grover, and Thalia keep walking towards the palace. Sure enough, that's where Kronos would head. As soon as he makes it up the elevator—and they have no doubt he will, one way or another—he'd destroy the throne room, the center of the gods' power.

The bronze doors creak open. Their footsteps echo on the marble floor. The constellations twinkle coldly on the ceiling of the great hall. The hearth is down to a dull red glow. Hestia, in the form of a little girl in brown robes, hunches at its edge, shivering. In the firelight, the thrones cast evil-looking shadows, like grasping hands.

Standing at the foot of Zeus's throne, looking up at the stars, is Rachel Elizabeth Dare, holding a Greek ceramic vase.

"Rachel?" Annabeth says nervously. "Um, what are you doing with that?"

She focuses on her as if coming out of a dream, "I found it. It's Pandora's jar, isn't it?"

Her eyes are brighter than usual, as if she's ready to give another prophecy any second.

"Please put down the jar," Thalia says.

"I can see Hope inside it." Rachel runs her fingers over the ceramic designs. "So fragile."

_"Rachel."_

Thalia's voice seems to bring her back to reality. She holds out the jar, and Annabeth takes it. The clay feels as cold as ice. Over by the fire, Hestia was huddled in her robes, rocking back and forth. They take a seat beside the goddess.

"Lady Hestia," Annabeth says.

"Hello, Annabeth" the goddess murmurs. "Getting colder. Harder to keep the fire going."

"We know," Thalia says. "The Titans are near."

Hestia nods, "Let us hope your friend Nico Di Angelo makes it in time."

Annabeth stares at them in confusion, "What do you mean?"

Hestia motions her to look into the fire. Thalia remembers this place, the gardens of Hades. They'd gone there about a week ago, asking for Persephone's help. The Lord of the Dead paces up and down a stretch of stone, holding his ears while Nico follows him, waving his arms.

"You _have_ to!" Nico insists.

Demeter and Persephone sit behind them at the breakfast table. Both of the goddesses look bored. Demeter pours shredded wheat into four huge bowls. Persephone magically changes the flower arrangement on the table, turning the blossoms from red to yellow to polka-dot.

"I don't _have_ to do anything!" Hades eyes blaze. "I am a god!"

"Father," Nico says, "if Olympus falls, your own palace's safety doesn't matter. You'll fade too."

"I am not an Olympian!" he growls. "My family has made that _quite_ clear."

"You are,'' Nico protests. "Whether you like it or not."

"You saw what they did to your mother," Hades says. "Zeus killed her. And you would have me _help_ them? They deserve what they get!"

Persephone sighs. She walks her fingers across the table, absently turning the silverware into roses, "Could we _please_ not talk about that woman?"

"You know what would help this boy?" Demeter muses. "Farming."

Nico makes a face, "Like hell."

Persephone rolls her eyes, "Mother—"

"Six months behind a plow. Excellent character building."

Nico steps in front of his father, forcing Hades to face him, "My mother understood about family. You can't just abandon yours because they did something horrible. You've done horrible things to them too."

"Maria died!" Hades reminds him, as if that's the answer to all the world's problems.

"You can't just cut yourself off from the other gods!"

"I've done very well at it for thousands of years!"

"And has that made you feel any better?" Nico demands. "Holding grudges is a fatal flaw. Both Thalia and Bianca warned me about that, and they're both right."

"For demigods! I am immortal, all-powerful! I would not help the other gods if they begged me, if Thalia Grace herself pleaded—"

"You're just as much of an outcast as I am!" Nico yells. "Stop being angry about it and do something helpful for once. That's the only way they'll respect you!"

Hades' palm fills with black fire.

"Go ahead," Nico says. "Blast me. That's just what the other gods would expect from you. Prove them right."

"Yes, please," Demeter complains. "Shut him up."

Persephone sighs, "Oh, I don't know. I would rather fight in the war than eat another bowl of cereal. This is boring." Hades roars in anger. His fireball hits a silver tree right next to Nico, melting it into a pool of liquid metal.

Annabeth looks at Pandora's jar, and for the first time she has an urge to open it. Hope seems pretty useless right now anyway. So many of her friends are dead. Percy would either die or become evil. Nico is gone, off trying to fight a hopeless battle against his father. Atalanta is still in danger, trapped in the hands of the Titans. Olympus is on the verge of failing.

_Surrender,_ Prometheus's voice whispers in Annabeth's ear. _Otherwise your home will be destroyed. Your precious camp will burn._

"Annabeth?" Thalia says, her voice concerned. Suddenly Annabeth feels like someone's injected her with steel. She understands what she has do.

Annabeth looks at Rachel, "You're not going to do anything stupid, are you? I mean... you're going to stay out of our way, right?"

She manages a faint smile, "You're worried about _me_ doing something stupid?"

"But I mean... will you be okay?"

"I don't know," she admits. "That kind of depends on whether you guys save the world."

Annabeth picks up Pandora's jar. The spirit of Hope flutters inside, trying to warm the cold container.

"Hestia," she says, "I give this to you as an offering."

The goddess tilts her head, "I am the least of the gods. Why would you trust me with this?"

"You're the last Olympian," Annabeth says. "And the most important."

"And why is that, Annabeth Chase?"

"Because Hope survives best at the hearth," she says, her expression softening. "Guard it for me, and I won't be tempted to give up again."

The goddess smiles. She takes the jar in her hands and it begins to glow. The hearth fire burns a little brighter.

"Well done, Annabeth Chase," she says. "May the gods bless you."

"We're about to find out," she looks at Thalia and Grover. "Come on, guys."

She marches towards the throne of Poseidon.

It stands just to the right of Zeus's, but isn't nearly as grand. The molded black leather seat is attached to a swivel pedestal, with a couple of iron rings on the side for fastening a fishing pole (or a trident). Basically it looks like a chair on a deep-sea boat, that you would sit in if you wanted to hunt shark or marlin or sea monsters.

Gods in their natural state are twenty feet tall, so she's able to reach the edge of the seat by stretching her arms.

"Help me up," she tells Thalia and Grover.

"Um … what the fuck are you doing?" they mutter simultaneously.

"Are you crazy?" Rachel says.

"Probably," Annabeth admits.

"Annabeth," Grover says, "the gods _really_ don't appreciate people sitting in their thrones. I mean like turn-you-into-a-pile-of-ashes don't appreciate it."

"I need to get his attention," she says. "It's the only way."

They exchange uneasy looks.

"Well," Thalia says, "this'll get his attention."

They link their arms to make a step, boosting Annabeth onto the throne. She feels like a baby with her feet so high off the ground. She looks around at the other gloomy, empty thrones, imagining what it would be like sitting on the Olympian Council—so much power but so much arguing, always eleven other gods trying to get their way.

She shakes her head, concentrating.

The throne rumbles, a wave of gale-force anger slamming into her mind:

_WHO DARES—_

The voice stops abruptly. The anger feigning back, which she supposes is a good thing, because just those two words almost had her mind blasted to shreds.

_Annabeth._ Poseidon's voice is still angry but slightly more controlled. _What_—_exactly_—_are you doing on my throne?_

"I'm sorry, my Lord," she says. "I needed to get your attention."

_This was a very dangerous thing to do, stupid Athena girl. If I hadn't looked before I blasted, you would now be a puddle of seawater. I can _still_ turn you into a puddle of seawater. Now you've better have a good reason for sitting here before I blast you to pieces._

"I'm sorry," she says again. "Listen, things are rough up here."

She tells him what's happening, telling about her plan. His voice is silent for a long time.

_What you ask is impossible. My palace_—

"Kronos sent an army against you on purpose. He wants to divide you from the other gods because he knows you could tip the scales."

_Be that as it may, he attacks my home._

"We are _at_ your home," she says. "Olympus."

The floor shakes. A wave of anger washes over her mind and she thinks she's gone too far. Then the trembling eases. In the background of her mental link, she hears underwater explosions and the sound of battle cries: Cyclopes bellowing, mermen shouting.

_You realize what you are asking me to do? My palace will be destroyed._

"And Olympus might be saved."

_Do you have any idea how long I've worked on remodeling this palace? The game room alone took six hundred years._

"Poseidon—"

_Very well! It shall be as you say. But pray this works you foolish girl._

"I am praying. I'm talking to you, right?"

_Well… good point. Amphitrite_—_incoming!_

The sound of a large explosion shatters their connection. Annabeth slips down from the throne with ease. Grover studies her nervously, "Are you okay? You turned pale and... you started smoking."

"I did not!" She looks at her arms, steam curling off my shirtsleeves. The hair on her arms singed.

"If you'd sat there any longer," Thalia says, "you would've spontaneously combusted. I hope the conversation was worth it?"

"We'll find out soon," Annabeth says.

Just then the doors of the throne room swing open. Murphy marches in, her bow snapped in half and her quiver empty.

"What happened to your bow?" Thalia asks.

"Had to use it to smash a monster's face in," Murphy replies. "I'm out of arrows anyway. Anyway, you've gotta get down there. The enemy is advancing. And Kronos is leading them."

**And if you don't know already, the first story _Chosen Ones: The Hunted _has been nominated for the Veritas. So vote for me :DDD**


	11. Chapter 10

**I'm sorry for super late update. High school is killed :P But I just saw the official art for Thanatos. All I can say: I didn't expect him to be black. But I must say, he is very VERY hot! So I'm not complaining...**

By the time they get to the street, it's too late.

Campers and Hunters lie wounded on the ground. Rafael must've lost a fight with a Hyperborean giant, because he and his chariot are frozen in a block of ice.

The centaurs are nowhere to be seen. Either they'd panicked and run away or they'd been disintegrated.

The Titan army rings around the building, standing maybe twenty feet from the doors. Kronos's vanguard is in the lead: Ethan Nakamura, Terra Ava, the _dracanae_ queen in her green armor, a group of enemy demigods in black armor and two Hyperboreans. In the hands of a giant is Atalanta, her face pale and terrified. Annabeth's fist clenches.

But Kronos himself stands right in front with his scythe in hand.

The only thing standing in his way is...

"Chiron," Grover says, his voice trembling.

He doesn't answer them. He has an arrow notched, aiming straight at Kronos's face.

As soon as Kronos sees them, his gold eyes flare. They freeze in place, unable to move. The Titan lord turns his attention back to Chiron, "Step aside, little son."

Hearing Percy call Chiron his _son_ is weird enough, but Kronos put contempt in his voice, like _son_ is the worst word he can think of.

"I'm afraid not." Chiron's tone is steely calm, the way he gets when he's really angry.

Annabeth, Grover, and Thalia struggle against the Titan Lord's spell.

"Chiron!" Grover warns. "Look out!"

The _dracaena_ queen becomes impatient, charging. Chiron's arrow flies straight between her eyes and she vaporizes on the spot, her empty armor clattering to the asphalt.

Chiron reaches for another arrow, but his quiver is empty. He drops the bow, drawing his sword. It was never his favorite weapon.

Kronos chuckles, advancing a step. Chiron's horse-half skitters nervously, his tail flicking back and forth.

"You're a teacher," Kronos sneers. "Not a hero."

"Percy was a hero," Chiron says. "A good one, until _you_ corrupted him."

"FOOL!" Kronos's voice shook the city. "You were never my teacher. You don't know me!"

"Me," Chiron notices. "You said _me._"

Kronos stares at him confused. In that moment, Chiron strikes. It's a good maneuver—a feint followed by a strike to the face. Annabeth couldn't have done better herself, but Kronos is quick. He has all of Percy's fighting skill, which is a lot. He knocks aside Chiron's blade yelling, _"BACK!"_

A blinding white light explodes between the Titan and the centaur. Chiron flies into the side of a building with such force the wall crumbles and collapses on top of him.

"No!" Grover wails. The spell breaks. They run towards the centaur, but there's no sign of him. Thalia and Grover pull helplessly at the bricks while a ripple of ugly laughter runs through the Titan's army.

"YOU!" Annabeth turns on Percy. "To think that I . . . that I thought-"

She draws her knife.

"Annabeth, don't." Thalia tries to take her arm, but she shakes her off.

She attacks Kronos, and his smug smile fading. Perhaps some part of Percy remembers that he used to love this girl, that he'd been friends with her since they were children.

She plunges her knife between the straps of his armor, right at his collar bone. The blade should've sunk into his chest but instead bounces off. Annabeth doubles over, clutching her arm to her stomach. The jolt is enough to dislocate her shoulder.

Thalia yanks her back as Kronos swings his scythe, slicing the air where she'd been standing a few moments ago.

Annabeth fights against Thalia screaming, "I HATE you!" Thalia's unsure who she's talking to—her or Percy or Kronos. An angry tear streaks her face.

Kronos laughs, "So much spirit. I can see why Percy wanted to spare you. Unfortunately, that won't be possible."

He raises his scythe. Thalia places a hand on the hilt of her sword, ready to defend, but before Kronos can strike, a dog's howl pierces the air somewhere behind the Titan's army.

Thalia tries not get her too hopes up to much, but she calls, "Mrs. O'Leary?"

The enemy forces stir uneasily. They begin to part, clearing a path through the street like something behind them is forcing them to.

Soon there's a free aisle down the center of Fifth Avenue. Standing at the end of the block is Thalia's loveable giant dog, and a figure in black armor.

"Nico?" Thalia says.

Mrs. O'Leary bounds towards her, ignoring the growling monsters on either side. Nico strides forward, taking his time. The enemy army falls back before him like he radiated death, which of course he does.

He comes to a stop in front of his friends. Through the face guard of his skull-shaped helmet, Nico smirks at Thalia, "Got your message. Is it too late to join the party?"

"Son of Hades." Kronos spits on the ground. "Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?"

"Your death," Nico says, "would be great for me."

"I'm immortal, you fool! I have escaped Tartarus. You have no business here, and no chance to live."

Nico shakes his head, drawing his sword—three feet of wickedly sharp Stygian iron, "I don't agree."

The ground rumbles. Cracks appear in the road, the sidewalks, the sides of the buildings. Skeletal hands grasp the air as the dead claw their way into the world of the living. There are thousands of them. As they emerge, the Titan's monsters panic, beginning to back away.

"HOLD YOUR GROUND!" Kronos demands. "The dead are no match for us."

The sky turns dark and cold and shadows thicken. A harsh war horn sounds. As the dead soldiers form up ranks with their guns and swords and spears, an enormous chariot roars down Fifth Avenue. It comes to a stop next to Nico. The horses are living shadows, fashioned from darkness. The chariot is inlaid with obsidian and gold, decorated with scenes of painful death. Holding the reins is Hades himself with Demeter and Persephone riding behind him.

Hades wears black armor and a cloak the color of fresh blood. On top of his pale head is the Helm of Darkness: a crown radiating pure terror. It changes shape as they watch on—from a dragon's head to a circle of black flames to a wreath of human bones. But that isn't the scary part. The helm reaches their minds igniting anyone's worst nightmares. Only Kronos's power and authority keeps his ranks from fleeing.

Hades smiles coldly, "Hello, Father. You're looking... young."

"Hades," Kronos growls. "I hope you and the ladies have come to pledge your allegiance."

"I'm afraid not." Hades sighs. "My son here convinced me that perhaps I should prioritize my list of enemies." He glances at Thalia and Annabeth with distaste. "As much as I dislike certain _upstart_ demigods, it would not do good for Olympus to fall. I would miss bickering with my siblings. And if there is one thing we agree on—it is that you were a TERRIBLE father."

"True," mutters Demeter. "No appreciation of agriculture."

"Mother!" Persephone complains.

Hades draws his sword, a double-edged Stygian blade etched with silver. "Now fight me! For today the House of Hades will be called the saviors of Olympus."

"I don't have time for this," Kronos snarls.

He strikes the ground with his scythe. A crack spreads in both directions, circling the Empire State Building. A wall of force shimmers along the fissure line, separating Kronos's vanguard and the group of half-bloods from the bulk of the two armies.

"What's he doing?" Murphy mutters nervously.

"Sealing us in," Thalia says. "He's collapsing the magic barriers around Manhattan—cutting off just the building, and us."

Sure enough, outside the barrier, car engines rev to life. Pedestrians awake staring uncomprehendingly at the monsters and zombies all around them. There's no telling what they can see through the Mist.

Hades charges at the wall of force, but his chariot crashes against it and overturns. He gets to his feet, cursing, and blasts the wall with black energy. The barrier holds.

"ATTACK!" he roars.

The armies of the dead clash with the Titan's monsters. Fifth Avenue explodes into absolute chaos. Mortals scream and run for cover. Demeter waves her hand and an entire column of giants turns into a wheat field. Persephone changes the _dracaenae's_ spears into sunflowers.

"Nakamura," Kronos says. "Attend me. Giants, half-bloods—deal with them."

He points at Annabeth and the others, ducking into the lobby. For a second they're all stunned. Annabeth and Thalia had been expecting a fight, but Kronos completely ignored them like they aren't worth the trouble.

The first Hyperborean giant smashes at Annabeth with his club. She rolls between his legs and stabs her knife into his backside. He shatters into a pile of ice shards. The second giant breaths frost at Grover but he jumps out of the way, allowing Murphy to go to work. She grabs Chiron's sword, sprinting up the giant's back like a gazelle, slicing the blade across his monstrous blue neck.

"Take care of the giants," Annabeth pants, "I'll deal with the demigods."

Thalia glares at a familiar armor clad female. "Terra," she snarls.

"Thalia," she replies curtly.

"I've beaten you a hundred times before," Thalia says through gritted teeth. "What makes you think I won't again?"

"Because this time," Terra smiles, "you hesitate. I can see it now; you don't want to kill me. I saw on the bridge what happened with the hellhound. You're getting weak."

Thalia charges. Their swords meet, a terrible clash of Celestial Bronze.

"You know, as much as I hate to admit this," Thalia growls, "Percy was right."

Terra pulls her blade away from the lock, jumping back. She anticipates Thalia's overcut, to which she ducks, stabbing her blade upwards.

She smirks, "It's a shame he'll most likely die in the next hour."

Terra dodges another swing from Thalia's sword. Electricity fires off her hand; Terra flicks her wrist, a wave of black magic swallowing it whole. _That's new,_ Thalia thinks idly.

Around them, the battle rages on. Nico fights his way inside the barrier, which doesn't seem to care about keeping out a demigod. He jumps on the back of an enemy demigod, using his legs to crack the half-blood's neck. His opponent falls to the ground, unconscious.

Annabeth looks at him, "What the fuck was that?"

He shrugs, "Saw it in a movie, wanted to try it."

She rolls her eyes, stabbing another demigod between the shoulder straps. He screams in pain as she kicks off his war helm, promptly punching him in the face. More of Kronos' vanguard moves into surround them. Nico flinches, the wound on his abdomen burning in protest. He tries to ignore the pain igniting, raising his sword in response.

"So maybe it's true, maybe you are just Nyx's bitch."

Thalia kicks at Terra, hitting her smack in the ribs. She falls, the rules of the Labyrinth running wildly in her head.

_Rule Number 5: __Do not allow your opponent to pin you down. Fight until the bitter end._

She rolls over as Thalia's sword threatens to pierce her throat.

_Rule Number 1: Never stay on the ground or you will die._

"Fuck you!" She jumps up, kicking Thalia's legs from under her. Riptide falls out of Thalia's grasp. Terra stabs downwards, but Thalia moves her head out of the way, allowing for the sword to embed itself in the concrete. Thalia grabs the hilt of Terra's sword, using the weapon as a leverage to kip up, the side of Thalia's foot nailing the daughter of Nemesis in the face.

_Rule Number 3: __Cheating is welcomed. Cheating keeps you alive._

"Well its true isn't it? Doing all of a goddess's dirty work. The Terra I _used_ to know would've never let a goddess possess her."

"You don't know anything about me."

Thalia lunges, throwing a punch at Terra. Terra catches it, countering with her own.

"Fuck it," Thalia hisses, straight up tackling Terra to the floor. She's pretty sure she looks ridiculous; their battle reduced to a down and dirty fist fight.

"Is it worth it?" she snarls in Terra's ear. "Seeing all your friends die?"

Annabeth and Nico near them with five of Kronos' vanguard. They fall into a simple rhythm of stepping and stabbing in sync but even then Nico is tiring considerably. Only _Rule 2_ keeps him going: _Kill all who threaten your position. Friend or otherwise._

Terra pushes Thalia off of her, grabbing her sword. With a hard tug, it comes out of the pavement. She presses it up to Thalia's throat.

"Give up yet?" she sneers.

Thalia glares at her, "You. Wish." She rips off the dagger strapped to her arm, knocking Terra's blade aside. From the corner of her eye, Thalia can make out Nico and something that makes the defiance leave her stance, only filling it with fear.

Terra glances over, confused, but soon a terrifying reality sinks into her. Unlike Thalia, Nico is actually one of the few people Terra doesn't want dead.

He's too busy fighting a half-blood to realize another sneaking behind him. When Thalia calls his name, as a warning, he glances in her direction, only making things worse. Even now, he's not sure what had happened, only being knocked down hard and hearing someone scream in pain.

Someone falls beside him with a hard thud. It's Terra.

**Not a long chapter but I promise I will update tomorrow. Author's word. And I don't know why Nico keeps having these near death experiences, ah well. **

**If you go on my profile you can find out more about the new fanfiction I'm writing: _Defiance._ It has minor Thalico and Percabeth in it, just so you know. And maybe hints of Thaluke. But anyway, it will be rated M as a warning. It will come out the same day as the Son of Neptune. I can't wait to read that book :DDD**


	12. Chapter 11

Nico rips off her armor, seeing the stab wound before anything else. It's right in the middle of her chest, narrowly missing her heart. Even then, Nico can tell an artery's been ruptured. Terra rolls over weakly, and he sees the other stab wound, right where her spine is. Tears of pain fall down her face as a black liquid pours out of her mouth. Just like Luke. When the drops hit the pavement, it starts to sizzle and dissolve the concrete like acid.

She falls on her arms, her nails gripping the ground as the spasms run along her body.

"Why did you do that?" Nico demands softly. "You shouldn't have done that."

"I don't know," Terra hisses, this time blood oozing out of her mouth. "Nico," she takes a shaky breath. "All the unclaimed. Don't let it... Don't let it happen again. You _can't_ let it happen again, do you understand? The minor gods…. They deserve better," she gasps. "If they just . . . had thrones—" She shudders violently, vomiting the black acid again.

Terra cries harder, taking one last painful breath.

For a moment, the battle fades away. Sadness fills into Nico's mind but he isn't sure why. After everything Terra had done to them… he wasn't sure anymore. No one deserves a death like this. Even this one confused, brainwashed girl. The one girl he used to call a friend.

Thalia and Annabeth walk over to Nico, looking at Terra fearfully.

"Is she…?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, closing Terra's eyes. "I'll stay here and take care of the army. You to have to get to Kronos before it's too late. I'll meet you there soon."

He looks at Thalia, challenging her to protest. She simply nods, pulling Annabeth away with her. Then Annabeth glances at the rubble pile on the side of the building. Her heart twists. She had forgotten about Chiron. How could she do that?

"Mrs. O'Leary," Annabeth says. "Please, Chiron's under there. If anyone can dig him out, you can. Find him! Help him!"

Annabeth's not sure how much she understands, but the hellhound sprints over to the pile and starts digging. Annabeth and Thalia race for the elevators.

The bridge to Olympus begins to dissolve. Right as they step out of the elevator onto the white marble walkway, cracks appear at their feet.

"Jump!" Grover says, who had decided to tagalong. He springs to the next slab of stone while theirs tilts sickeningly.

"That's easy for you to say!" Thalia snaps. "You're part mountain goat."

"That's not my fault," he yells as she and Annabeth leap through open air. As soon as they reach the pavement, Annabeth and Thalia fall to their knees, gasping for air.

"Keep moving!" Grover tugs Annabeth's shoulder. They get to their feet sprinting across the sky bridge as more stones disintegrate and fall to oblivion. They make it to the edge of the mountain just as the final section collapses.

Annabeth looks back at the elevator, which is now completely out of reach—a polished set of metal doors hanging in space, attached to nothing, six hundred stories above Manhattan.

"We're marooned," she says. "On our own."

"Blah-ha-ha!" Grover says. "The connection between Olympus and America is dissolving. If it fails—"

"The gods won't move on to another country this time," Thalia says. "This will be the end of Olympus. The _final_ end."

They run through the streets. Mansions are burning. Statues had been hacked down. Trees in the parks are blasted to splinters. It looks like someone had attacked the city with a giant Weedwacker.

They follow the winding path towards the palace of the gods. They don't remember the road being so long. Maybe its Kronos making time go slower or maybe it's just dread that's slowing them down. The whole mountaintop is in ruins—so many beautiful buildings and gardens gone.

A few minor gods and nature spirits had tried to stop Kronos. What remains of them is strewn about the road: shattered armor, ripped clothing, swords and spears broken in half.

Somewhere ahead of them, Kronos's voice roars: "Brick by brick! That was my promise. Tear it down BRICK BY BRICK!" A white marble temple with a gold dome suddenly explodes. The dome shoots up like the lid of a teapot and shattering into a billion pieces, raining rubble over the city.

"That was a shrine to Athena," Annabeth grumbles. "He'll pay for that."

They're running under the marble archway with the huge statues of Zeus and Hera when the entire mountain groans, rocking sideways like a boat in a storm.

"Look out!" Grover yelps. The archway crumbles. They look up in time to see a twenty-ton scowling Hera topples over on them. Annabeth and Thalia would've been flattened, but Grover shoves them out of the way just in time.

"Grover!" Annabeth shouts.

When the dust clears, the mountain stops rocking. They find him still alive, but his legs are pinned under the statue. They try desperately to move it, but it could've taken several Cyclopes.

When they try to pull Grover out from under it, he yells in pain, trying not to curse.

"I survive all those battles," he groans, "and I get defeated by a stupid chunk of rock!"

"It's Hera," Thalia says in outrage. "She's had it in for me all year. Her statue would've killed me if you hadn't pushed us away."

Grover grimaces, "Well, don't just stand there! I'll be fine. Go!"

They don't want to leave him, but they can hear Kronos laughing as he approaches the hall of the gods. More buildings explode.

"We'll be back," Annabeth promises.

"I'm not going anywhere," Grover bleats out. A fireball erupts on the side of the mountain, right near the gates of the palace.

"We've gotta run," Thalia says. She sprints towards the palace, Annabeth right behind. The doors of the palace are big enough to steer a cruise ship through, but they've been ripped off their hinges and smashed like they weigh little to nothing. They climb over a huge pile of broken stone and twisted metal just to get inside.

Kronos stands in the middle of the throne room, his arms wide, staring at the starry ceiling as if taking it all in. His laughter echoes even louder than it had from the pit of Tartarus.

"Finally!" he bellows. "The Olympian Council—so proud and mighty. Which seat of power shall I destroy first?"

Ethan Nakamura stands to one side, trying to stay out of the way of his master's scythe. The hearth is almost dead, a few coals glowing deep in the ashes. Hestia is nowhere to be seen. Neither is Rachel. Thalia hopes she's okay, but she'd seen so much destruction today. Thalia's almost afraid to think about it. Tossed aside at the base of Poseidon's throne is Atalanta, blood streaking out from the side of her temple. She glances at her mother fearfully, as if warning her to stay back.

Annabeth and Thalia step forward into the torchlight. Ethan sees them first.

"My lord," he warns.

Kronos turns and smiles through Percy's face. Except for the golden eyes, he looks just the same as he had three years ago when they all had gathered at the mall after first meeting the gods on Olympus. Annabeth makes a painful sound in the back of her throat, like someone's just sucker punched her.

"Shall I destroy you first the Miss Chase?" Kronos asks. "Is that the choice you will make—to fight me and die instead of bowing down? Prophecies never end well, you know."

"Percy would fight with a sword," Thalia says. "But I suppose you don't have his skill."

Kronos sneers. His scythe begins to change, until he's holding Luke's old weapon, Backbiter, with its half-steel, half-Celestial bronze blade. Kronos comes at them like a whirlwind.

Their instincts take over. In sync, they dodge and slash and roll, but it feels like fighting a hundred swordsmen. Ethan ducks to one side, trying to get behind Thalia when Annabeth intercepts him. That leaves her to face Kronos alone.

He backs her up against the throne of Hephaestus—a huge mechanical La-Z-Boy type thing covered in bronze and silver gears. Kronos slashes, but she manages to jump straight up onto the seat. The throne whirrs and hums with secret mechanisms. _Defense mode,_ it warns. _Defense mode._

Not good.

She jumps straight over Kronos's head as the throne shoots out tendrils of electricity in all directions. One hits Kronos in the face, arcing down his body and up his sword.

Ethan fights relentlessly against Annabeth. He's gotten better over the past year and he isn't drained from fighting the Titan Army like she is. He backs her up to the throne of Ares, to which she doesn't really care too much about but beside her Atalanta is only a few meters away.

The little girl stands up timidly, "Mommy, the knife."

Annabeth cuts a gash across Ethan's chest, "What knife? Mine?"

Atalanta shakes her head, "No." She points over to Kronos. Discarded by the sizzling throne of Hephaestus is a leather sheath. Annabeth stares at it in confusion, kicking Ethan away.

"I don't understand," she tells Atalanta.

The little girl huffs impatiently, "Thalia!" she screams, pointing towards the scabbard. Confused, Thalia kicks it towards her. The knife slides across the floor, landing at Annabeth's feet. She picks up the weapon, uncovering it, only to see her reflection in the mirror-like blade.

"What is it?" Annabeth asks.

Atalanta makes a move to answer but is interrupted by Thalia crashing into Apollo's throne on the right. Ethan Nakumara gets to his feet, standing between Annabeth and Thalia. But with Thalia momentarily incapacitated, there's no way Annabeth can fight Ethan without turning her back on Kronos.

Kronos rises to one knee, his hair smoldering. His face is covered with electrical burns. He reaches for his sword, but this time it doesn't fly into his hands. As he staggers towards it, he says to Ethan, "Nakamura! Time to prove yourself. You know her weakness. Kill Chase, and you will have rewards beyond measure."

His eyes drop down to Atalanta. There's no way Annabeth could defend both herself and her daughter forever. That's why the girl had been brought here in the first place, to distract Annabeth.

"Look around you, Ethan," she says. "The end of the world. Is that the reward you want? Do you really want everything destroyed—the good with the bad? _Everything?_"

"There is no throne to Nemesis," Ethan mutters. "No throne to my mother."

"That's right!" Kronos tries to get up, but stumbles. Above his left ear, a patch of black hair is still smoldering. "Strike them down! They deserve to suffer."

"Terra said your mom is the goddess of balance," Annabeth reminds him. "The minor gods deserve better, Ethan, but total destruction isn't _balance._ Kronos doesn't build. He only destroys."

Ethan looks at the sizzling throne of Hephaestus. He stares at Atalanta, who looks at him, her gray eyes wide and piteous. His good eye blinks.

Then he charges... but not at them.

While Kronos is still on his knees, Ethan brings down his sword on the Titan lord's neck. It should've killed him instantly, but the blade shatters. Ethan falls back, grasping his stomach. A shard of his own blade had ricocheted off, piercing his armor.

Kronos rises unsteadily, towering over his servant. "Treason," he snarls.

Ethan stares at Annabeth, his face tight with pain.

"Deserve better," he gasps. "If they just... had thrones—"

Kronos stomps his foot, and the floor ruptured around Ethan Nakamura. The son of Nemesis falls through a fissure that goes straight through the heart of the mountain—straight into open air.

"So much for him." Kronos picks up his sword. "And now for the rest of you."

Annabeth's only thought is to keep him away from Atalanta. But even then her energy is running out. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning rips through the throne room, hitting Kronos's back. It doesn't hurt him, but the force is enough to knock him off his feet.

Thalia is back now, almost as tired as Annabeth, blood leaking from a cut on her collarbone but she looks pissed. For Annabeth, that's a good thing. But Kronos isn't giving up yet. Both of them fight the Titan through the hearth, kicking up coals and sparks. He notices Annabeth's slight limp, the fact she's preferring her left foot over her right.

He takes advantage of this, putting most of his energy into fighting her than Thalia, whose attacks he simply deflects. Annabeth throws all her weight unto her left ankle trying duck a blow from Kronos. She can feel the pain of her mistake. Annabeth falters, loosing balance. Kronos turns his attention back to Thalia, who's now fighting with him again, one on one.

Kronos slashes an armrest off the throne of Hera, which is okay by her, but then he backs Thalia up to her father's throne.

"Oh, yes," Kronos smirks. "This one will make fine kindling for my new hearth!"

Their blades clash in a shower of sparks. He's stronger than her, that much is obvious, but for a moment she feels the power of the sky in her arms. She pushes him back, striking again—slashing Riptide across his breastplate so hard she cuts a gash in the Celestial bronze.

He stamps his foot again and time slows. Thalia tries to attack but she's moving at the speed of a glacier. Kronos backs up leisurely, catching his breath. He examines the gash in his armor while she struggles forward, silently cursing him. He can take all the time-outs he wants; he could freeze her in place at will. Thalia's only hope is that the effort is draining him. If only she could wear him down...

"It's too late, Thalia Grace," he says. "Behold."

He points to the hearth, and the coals glow. A sheet of white smoke pours from the fire, forming images like an Iris-message. Thalia sees Jason and her friends down on Fifth Avenue, fighting a hopeless battle, ringed in enemies. In the background Hades fights from his black chariot, summoning wave after wave of zombies out of the ground, but the forces of the Titan's army seems just as endless. Meanwhile, Manhattan is being destroyed. Mortals, now fully awake, are running around in terror. Cars swerve and crash. But it worries Thalia even more that she can't see Nico.

The scene shifts, and Thalia sees something even more terrifying.

A column of storm is approaching the Hudson River, moving rapidly over the Jersey shore. Chariots circle it, locked in combat with the creature in the clouds.

The gods attack. Lightning flashes. Arrows of gold and silver streak into the cloud like rocket tracers and explode. Slowly, the cloud rips apart, and Thalia sees Typhon clearly for the first time.

Thalia knows as long as she lives (which might not be that long, depending what Kronos has in mind for her) she'll never be able to get the image out of her mind. Typhon's head shifts constantly. Every moment he's a different monster, each more horrible than the last. Looking at his face should've driven her insane, but she focuses on his body, which isn't much better.

He's humanoid, but his skin is mottled green, with blisters the size of buildings, blackened patches from eons of being stuck under a volcano. His hands are human, but with talons like an eagle's, his legs scaly and reptilian.

"The Olympians are giving their final effort." Kronos laughs. "How pathetic."

Zeus throws a thunderbolt from his chariot. The blast lights up the world. Even from here Thalia can feel the shock. But when the dust clears, Typhon is still standing. He staggers a bit, a smoking crater on top of his misshapen head. He roars in anger, continuing to advance.

Thalia's limbs begin to loosen up but Kronos doesn't seem to notice. His attention is focused on the fight and his final victory.

Typhon steps into the Hudson River, barely sinking to mid-calf. _Now,_ Annabeth thinks, imploring the image in the smoke. _Please, it has to happen now._

Like a miracle, a conch horn sounds from the smoky picture. The call of the ocean. The call of Poseidon.

All around Typhon, the Hudson River erupts, churning with forty-foot waves. Out of the water bursts a new chariot—this one pulled by massive hippocampi, who swim in air as easily as they do in water. Poseidon, glowing with a blue aura of power, rides a defiant circle around the giant's legs. This time he's no longer an old man. He looked like himself again—tan and strong with a black beard. As he swings his trident, the river responds, making a funnel cloud around the monster.

"No!" Kronos bellows after a moment of stunned silence. "NO!"

"NOW, MY BRETHREN!" Poseidon's voice is so loud they're not sure if they're hearing it from the smoke image or all the way from across town. "STRIKE FOR OLYMPUS!"

Warriors burst out of the river, riding the waves on huge sharks, dragons, and sea horses. A legion of Cyclopes, each holding huge lengths of black iron chains—big enough to anchor a battleship—with grappling hooks at the ends. They swing them like lassos, ensnaring Typhon. They throw lines around the creature's legs and arms, using the tide to keep circling, slowly tangling him. Typhon shakes and roars, yanked at the chains, pulling some of the Cyclopes off their mounts; but there are too many. The sheer weight of the Cyclops battalion begins to weigh down on him. Poseidon throws his trident, impaling the monster's throat. Golden blood, immortal ichor, spews from the wound, making a waterfall taller than a skyscraper. The trident flies back to Poseidon's hand.

The other gods strike with renewed force. Ares rides in, stabbing Typhon in the nose. Artemis shoots the monster in the eye with a dozen silver arrows. Apollo shoots a blazing volley of arrows, setting the monster's loincloth on fire. Zeus pounds the giant with lightning, until finally, slowly; the water rises, wrapping Typhon like a cocoon. Soon he begins to sink under the weight of the chains.

Typhon bellows in agony, thrashing with such force that waves sloshed the Jersey shore, soaking five-story buildings and splashing over the George Washington Bridge—but he sinks though a tunnel at the bottom of the river taking him straight to Tartarus. The giant's head goes under in a seething whirlpool, gone.

"BAH!" Kronos screams, slashing his sword through the smoke, tearing the image to shreds.

"They're on their way," Thalia says, smirking. "You've lost."

"I haven't even started."

He advances with blinding speed. A ball of black fire appears out of nowhere, slamming into Kronos's arm, deterring him for a fraction of a second, which is enough of a distraction for Thalia to take. She sidesteps, jabbing under Kronos's guard. It's a good trick. Unfortunately, Percy knows it. He counters the strike, disarming her with one of the first moves they learned from Daedalus.

Thalia's sword skitters across the ground, falling straight into the open fissure.

"STOP!" Annabeth comes out of nowhere.

Kronos whirls to face her, slashing with Backbiter, but somehow Annabeth catches the strike on her dagger hilt. It's a move only the quickest and most skilled knife fighters can manage.

Thalia isn't sure where Annabeth finds the strength, but she steps in closer for leverage, their blades crossing. For a moment she stands face-to-face with the Titan lord, holding him at a standstill.

"Percy," she says, gritting her teeth, "I understand now. You have to trust me."

Kronos roars in outrage, "Percy Jackson is dead! His body will burn away as I assume my true form!"

Thalia tries to move, but her body is frozen again. How can Annabeth, battered and half dead with exhaustion, have the strength to fight a Titan like Kronos?

Kronos pushes against her, trying to dislodge her blade, but she holds him in check, her arms trembling as he forces his sword down towards her neck.

"You're in there somewhere," Annabeth grunts, "I know you are."

"Service to Kronos!" the Titan roars.

"No!" Annabeth insists. Her eyes are tearing up, but whether it's from sadness or pain, Thalia doesn't know. "The prophecy, Percy. _The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap._ It applies to you! It's the only way!"

He's a millimeter away from slicing her throat when a black blade appears out of nowhere. Kronos dislodges his sword, slamming against the other. Nico's there, looking almost as bad as they do.

"Nico, WAIT!" Annabeth says urgently but it falls upon deaf ears.

"ENOUGH OF THIS!" Kronos roars, a final wave of pure energy blasting them backwards. He pants angrily, his chest rising and falling heavily. Atalanta, crouched on the floor beside Poseidon's throne, stands up reluctantly, clutching the knife to her chest.

"Daddy, please, don't do this," she cries, stepping towards him.

"I will crush you, child!" Kronos bellows in irritation.

"You won't," she says. "You promised."

"LIES!" he screams, striking her face. She slides back.

Annabeth tries to rise, but it's horrible, like holding the weight of the sky. Kronos looms over Atalanta, his sword raised. Blood trickles from the corner of her mouth, "Family, Daddy. You promised."

Annabeth takes a painful step forward but it's slow progress, her trying to get the feeling back in her legs. Kronos staggers, staring at the knife in Atalanta's hand, the blood on her face, _"Promise."_

Then he gasps painfully, as if he can't breathe. "Atalanta..." But it isn't the Titan's voice. It's Percy's. He stumbles forward like he can't control his own body. "You're bleeding..."

Atalanta gets on her knees, "Daddy," she cries, outstretching her aching arms. He leans in towards her slowly.

Annabeth grabs her knife, moving forward, "Don't touch her." She knocks Backbiter out of his hand, sending it spinning towards the hearth.

Anger ripples across his face. Kronos's voice growls: "Chase..." Maybe it's her imagination, but his whole body glows, almost turning gold.

He gasps again. Percy's voice: "He's changing. Help. He's... he's almost ready. He won't need my body anymore. Please—"

"NO!" Kronos bellows. He looks around for his sword, but it's in the hearth, glowing amongst the coals.

He stumbles towards it. Annabeth tries to stop him, but he pushes her out of the way with such force she lands cracking her head on the base of Athena's throne.

When Annabeth's vision comes back into focus, she sees Kronos grasping his sword. Then he bellows in pain, dropping it. His hands are smoking and seared. The hearth fire grows red-hot, like the scythe isn't compatible with it. Annabeth sees an image of Hestia flickering in the ashes, frowning at Kronos with disapproval.

Percy turns and collapses, clutching his ruined hands. "Please, Atalanta..."

The little girl struggles to her feet, clutching the knife in her hands. _Kill him,_ Thalia wants to shout but she can't seem to find her voice. That's the plan, that's what needs to be done.

Percy stares at her and Nico, seeming to know what she's thinking. He moistens his lips. "You can't... can't do it yourself. He'll break my control. He'll defend himself. Only my hand. I know where. I can... can keep him controlled."

He's starting to glow now, his skin beginning to smoke. _You are not the hero,_ Rachel had said. _None of you are. It will affect what you do._

"Please," Percy groans. "No time."

If Kronos evolves into his true form, there's no stopping him. He'll make Typhon look like a playground bully. The line from the Great Prophecy echoes in Annabeth's head: _A single choice shall end his days…_ Atalanta glances at her mother. She simply nods and Atalanta gives the knife to Percy.

Nico looks at her, "Annabeth? Are you... um..."

"Crazy. Insane. Off my rocker. Probably," she answers watching as Percy grasps the hilt. Atalanta, her only daughter, stands before him—defenseless. And yet, a dull calm seeps into Annabeth's mind, as if it's the right thing to do.

He unlatches the straps of his armor, removing his breastplate. He closes his eyes, bringing the knife to the small of his back. With difficulty, he stabs himself.

It isn't a deep cut, but Percy howls in pain.

His eyes glow like lava. The throne room shakes, throwing Atalanta off her feet. An aura of energy surrounds Percy, growing brighter and brighter. They all shut their eyes, feeing a force like a nuclear explosion blistering their skin and cracking their lips.

It's silent for a long time.

When Annabeth opens her eyes, she sees Percy sprawled at the hearth. On the floor around him is a blackened circle of ash. Kronos's scythe liquefies into molten metal, trickling into the coals of the hearth, which is now glowing like a blacksmith's furnace.

Percy's whole left side is bloody. His eyes are open—green eyes, the way they're supposed to be. His breath is a deep rattle.

"Good... blade," he croaks.

Annabeth kneels next to him with Atalanta. Thalia limps over with Nico's support. They all have tears in their eyes.

Percy gazes proudly at Atalanta, "You knew. I almost killed you, but you knew... my smart little girl…"

"Shhh." Annabeth's voice trembles. "You were a hero at the end, Percy. You'll go to Elysium."

He holds up his charred hand. Annabeth touches his fingertips.

"Did you..." Percy coughs, his lips glistened red. His eyes are sad, pleading, "Did you love me?"

Annabeth wipes her tears away, she kisses him softly, almost afraid she'll cause him more pain. "I've always loved you Percy. At times I doubted myself but… but I don't anymore."

He nods, as if expecting that. Percy winces in pain.

"We can get ambrosia," Nico says. "We can—"

"Nico," Percy gulps. "You're the bravest guy I've ever known…. You too, Thalia…But no. There's no healing..." He coughs in discomfort, like he's breathing in sulfur.

Percy looks at Atalanta, doing his best to smile, "I love you Atalanta. Never forget that. Everything I did… I did it for you. That was the reason I joined the Titans. They… they threatened to hurt you. I didn't want that to happen… I'd never let anything hurt you," he sighs, "But I broke my promise. _I _was the one that hurt you. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

She shakes her head, "It's okay."

Percy turns back to Annabeth, gripping sleeve, "Terra. Ethan. Me. Luke. All the unclaimed. Don't let it... Don't let it happen again."

His eyes are angry, but imploring too.

"I won't," she says. "I promise."

Percy nods, her answer satisfying him. He closes his eyes as if pleased, his hand going slack.

The gods arrive a few minutes later in their full war regalia, thundering into the throne room, expecting a battle. What they find is Annabeth, Thalia, and Nico standing over the body of a broken half-blood, in the dim, warm light of the hearth.

"Annabeth," her mother calls, awe in her voice. "What... what is this?"

She turns, facing the Olympians. "We need a shroud," Annabeth announces, her voice cracking. "A shroud for the son of Poseidon."


	13. Chapter 12

**AN: I know, my updates have been spacing lately. I have five words for you: High School is a bitch. I was failing Biology but thank gawd I have a C now. And I've also been working on Defiance, the new fanfiction I plan to put up next week on October 4.**

**That brings me to some bad news. Yesterday, the screen for my laptop broke. Yes, clumsy me. *Sigh* So, I'm going to have to use my mom's computer. The bad part about that, none of my files are saved on this thing. I'm trying to work hard to retype the prologue to Defiance. I have half of it saved in my email, and the other half written in a notebook somewhere in my room. So, thanks to that bitchy Karma moment, I'll be updating once a week. For Stalemate there's only one more chapter and an Epilogue I believe. So lucky for you, I will be updating those a soon as possible. But Defiance will be updated once a week until I get my laptop back in working order. But at least they' aren't erasing the hardrive...**

**So, continue onto the story I supposed... and honestly, I find it sad to die on your 21st birthday. RIP Percy 3 (cue secretive, insider wink)**

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><p><strong>Olympus—August 18<strong>

The Three Fates themselves take away Percy's body.

Thalia's never seen the three goddesses before but they reminded her much of the Furies in disguise three years ago, the time Thalia and her friends had boarded a flight from Phoenix.

One of them looks her in the eye. The Fate doesn't say anything, but Thalia's life literally flashes before her eyes. Suddenly Thalia's thirty, then a middle-aged man. Then she turns old and withered. All the strength leaves her body, and she soon sees her own tombstone and an open grave, a coffin being lowered into the ground. All this happened in less than a second.

_It is done,_ the Fate says.

The Fate holds up a snippet of green yarn. But then Thalia hears something else in her mind.

_Mistake._

Or at least she thinks she hears it. The Fates don't bother to correct her. They gather up Percy's body, now wrapped in a blue-and-green shroud, beginning to carry it out of the throne room.

"Wait," Poseidon says.

The sea god unwraps Percy's face, kissing his forehead. He murmurs a few words in Ancient Greek—a final blessing.

"Farewell," he whispers, nodding, allowing the Fates to carry away his son's body.

As they leave, Thalia thinks about the Great Prophecy. The lines make so much more sense now. _The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap._ The hero was Percy. The cursed blade was the knife he'd given Atalanta—cursed because Percy had broken his promise and betrayed his friends.

_A single choice shall end his days._ Annabeth and Atalanta's choice, to give him the knife, and to believe, as Atalanta had, that he was still capable of setting things right. _Olympus to preserve or raze._ By sacrificing himself, Percy had saved Olympus. In the end, Rachel was right. In the end, none of them were really the hero. Only Percy.

Next to Thalia, Nico stands beside her, as if thinking about the same things. His expression is unreadable, the way it normally gets when something troubles him.

Apollo walks up to them.

"How's Atalanta?"

"She'll be fine in a few minutes. Just enough time for me to compose a poem about our victory: 'Apollo and his friends save Olympus.' Good, eh?"

"Thanks, Apollo," Nico says. "We'll, um, let you handle the poetry."

"What about Annabeth?"

The sun god grimaces, scratching the back of his head, "Her physical injuries are all healed… emotionally though, the girl's a wreck. No amount of magic will be able to fix her."

The next few hours are a blur. The gods set about repairing the throne room, which goes on surprisingly fast with twelve super powerful beings at work. Thalia and Nico care for the wounded but once the sky bridge is re-formed, they greet their friends who've survived. The Cyclopes save Grover from the fallen statue. He's in a wheelchair but is otherwise okay. Connor and Travis Stoll are one of few able who made it with only minor injuries. They promised Nico they hadn't even looted the city much.

Mrs. O'Leary had eventually dug Chiron out from under the rubble, rushing him off to camp. The Stolls were worried about the old centaur, but at least he's alive. Miranda Gardiner reported she'd seen Rachel Elizabeth Dare run out of the Empire State Building at the end of the battle. Rachel was unharmed, but nobody knew where she'd gone. Nico had tried assure them she was relatively okay.

Hades came into Olympus to a hero's welcome despite the fact that he was only supposed to visit Olympus on winter solstice. The god of the dead looked stunned to see his relatives clap him on the back. Thalia doubts he'd ever gotten such an enthusiastic welcome before.

Rafael marches in, still shivering from his time in the ice block. When Ares spots him, he bellows proudly, "There's my boy!"

The god of war ruffles his hair, pounded him on the back, calling Rafe the best warrior he's ever seen. "That drakon-slaying? THAT'S what I'm talking about!"

Rafael looks overwhelmed, simply blinking and nodding, but eventually he begins to smile.

Hera and Hephaestus pass Thalia and Nico. While Hephaestus is a little grumpy about Thalia jumping on his throne, he claims they'd done "a pretty bang-up job, mostly."

Hera sniffs in disdain, "Yes, well. I suppose I won't have to destroy you now.

"Thalia saved Olympus," says a familiar voice. Annabeth stares at Hera, boldly standing up to the goddess. Her gray eyes are cold and strict. "Kronos almost destroyed your throne but she managed to save it before then."

"Hmm," Hera whirls away in a huff, but Thalia figures her life is safe. For now.

"Thanks," she tells her.

"No problem," Annabeth says, managing a small smile. She turns around only to be ambushed by the smell of wine and weed.

Dionysus's head is still wrapped in a bandage. He looks Annabeth up and down, saying, "Well, Annabeth Chase. I see Pollux made it through, so I suppose you aren't completely inept. It's all thanks to my training, I suppose."

She decides not to argue, "Whatever you say Mr. D."

He nods, "As thanks for my bravery, Zeus has cut my probation at that miserable camp in half. I now have only fifty years left instead of a hundred."

"Fifty years, huh?" she tries to imagine putting up with Dionysus until she's ended up an old woman, assuming she lived that long.

"Don't get so excited, Chase," he says, and she finally realizes he's saying her name correct for the first time. "I still plan on making your life miserable."

She can't help but smile, "Naturally."

"Just so we understand each other." Dionysus turns away, beginning his repairs on his grapevine throne, which had been singed by fire.

Atalanta wanders into the throne room. The wrist on the arm she broke last year is sprained, wrapped in bandages along with her forehead. But besides that she's perfectly fine, trying to locate her mother.

"There you are my dear!" says a powerful voice from behind.

Atalanta whirls around, her eyes widening as she sees Poseidon nearing her with a smile on his face.

"You have done well, Atalanta," he says. "To think, such a young child could be a savior of Olympus. I wait in anticipation, wondering what you shall do in the near future."

She blushes, murmuring a thank you.

Poseidon holds out his arms, giving her a hug. A little embarrassed, she's never actually associated with her grandfather before, much less hug him. He's warm—like a regular human— smelling of a salty beach and fresh sea air.

When he pulls away, he smiles kindly at her. She tears up a little. Until that moment Atalanta hasn't allowed herself to realize just how terrified she'd been over the course of the last few days.

"Grandpa—"

"Shhh," he says. "No hero is above fear, Atalanta. I'm sure you father would be proud of y—"

"POSEIDON!" a voice roars.

Zeus had taken his throne. He glares across the room at Poseidon while all the other gods file in, taking their seats. Even Hades is present, sitting on a simple stone guest chair at the foot of the hearth.

"Well, Poseidon?" Zeus grumps. "Are you too proud to join us in council, my brother?"

He glances at his granddaughter one last time, giving her a wink. "I would be honored my Lord Zeus."

Poseidon strides over to his seat, allowing the Olympian Council to assemble.

While Zeus explains talking—some long speech about the bravery of the gods, etc.—Annabeth walks in taking her place next to Nico.

"Miss much?" she whispers.

"Nobody's planning to kill us, so far," he whispers back, smirking. "Where'd you go anyway?" Immediately he regrets his question, taking in her eyes—red from crying.

Annabeth smiles, ignoring the last part, "No one's trying to kill us? Wow, first time today."

They both share a painful laugh, which is soon interrupted by Hera's dirty look.

"Let her," Thalia says, rolling her eyes.

"As for my brothers," Zeus says, "we are thankful"—he clears his throat like the words are hard to get out— "erm, thankful for the aid of Hades."

The lord of the dead nods. He has a smug look on his face, but no one seems bothered by it, figuring he'd earned the right.

"And, of course," Zeus continues, though he looking like his pants are smoldering, "we must... um... thank Poseidon."

"I'm sorry, brother," Poseidon says. "What was that?"

"We must thank Poseidon," Zeus growls. "Without whom... it would've been difficult—"

"Difficult?" he asks innocently.

"Impossible," Zeus says. "Impossible to defeat Typhon."

The gods murmur in agreement, pounding their weapons in approval.

"Which leaves us," Zeus says, "only the matter of thanking our demigod heroes, who defended Olympus so well—even if there are a few dents in my throne."

He calls Zoe and Bianca forward first, promising them help in filling the Hunters' ranks.

Artemis smiles, "You have done well, my lieutenants. You have made me proud, and all those Hunters who perished in my service will never be forgotten. They will achieve Elysium, I am sure."

She glares pointedly at Hades.

He shrugs, "Probably."

Bianca looks at him, her eyes wide and innocent.

"Okay," Hades grumbles, caving in. "I'll streamline their application process."

Bianca beams with pride, "Thank you, my Lord." They bow to the gods, walking over to stand by Artemis's side.

"Grover Underwood of the satyrs!" Dionysus calls.

Grover rolls forward nervously.

"Oh, don't wet your wool," Dionysus chides. "Honestly, I'm not going to blast you. For your bravery and sacrifice, blah, blah, blah, and since we have an unfortunate vacancy, the gods have seen fit to name you a member of the Council of Cloven Elders."

Grover collapses on his wheelchair. Thalia and Nico can't help but snicker. Even Annabeth cracks a smile.

"Oh, wonderful," Dionysus sighs, as several naiads came forward to help Grover. "Well, when he wakes up, someone tell him that he has been promoted from Satyr Securities, and that all satyrs, naiads, and other spirits of nature will henceforth treat him as a Lord of the Wild, with all rights, privileges, and honors, blah, blah, blah. Now please, drag him off before he wakes up and starts groveling."

Thalia figures he'll be okay, waking up as Lord of the Wild with a bunch of beautiful naiads taking care of him. Life could be worse.

"Luke Castellan," Zeus calls grimly. Luke blinks, walking forward. Luke kneels before the gods, awaiting his fate. Everyone listens in anticipation.

"Luke Castellan you have betrayed Olympus, hosted Erebus, stolen from the gods, and released Hyperion, Krios and Iapetus. And yet, for your bravery in battle and aiding in our victory… I have seen it fit to grant you complete and total amnesty for your actions. Rise, son of Hermes, as you are now a shameless hero."

Nico's not sure who's happier: Luke, Hermes or Thalia.

"Daedalus," Athena calls. "My son."

He walks forward with a genuine smile on his face as if he hasn't been called _son_ in a couple thousand years—well it's kind of true anyway. He kneels at his mother's feet.

Athena smiles, "You, my bold one, have exceeded all expectations. You have used your wits, your strength, and your courage to defend this city. For that I am forever grateful. It has come to our attention that Olympus is... well, trashed. The Titan lord did much damage that will have to be repaired. We could rebuild it by magic, of course, and make it just as it was. But the gods feel that the city could be improved. We will take this as an opportunity. And you, Daedalus, will design these improvements."

Daedalus looks up, stunned. "My... my lady?"

Athena smiles wryly, "You _are_ an architect, are you not? The greatest in the world. Who better to redesign Olympus and make it a monument that will last for another eon?"

"But… my duty—"

"Well no longer be necessary," Athena interjects. "Our debacle with Hecate has been solved, thanks to your students. Besides, you weren't exactly the best…ah… _babysitter_."

The stunned look never leaves his face, "You mean . . . I can design whatever I want?"

"As your heart desires," the goddess says. "Make us a city for the ages."

"As long as you have plenty of statues of me," Apollo adds.

"And me," Aphrodite agrees.

"Hey, and me!" Ares says. "Big statues with huge wicked swords and—"

"All right!" Athena interrupts. "He gets the point. Rise, Daedalus, official architect of Olympus."

Daedalus rises in a trance, walking back towards the others.

"Way to go," Annabeth tells him, smirking.

For once he's at a loss for words, "I'll... I'll have to start planning… I'm going to need—"

"ANNABETH CHASE!" Poseidon announces, her name echoing around the chamber.

All talking dies down. The room is silent except for the crackle of the hearth fire. Everyone's eyes are on them—all the gods, demigods, Cyclopes, and spirits. She walks into the middle of the throne room. Hestia smiles reassuringly, giving her the courage to keep walking.

She bows down to Lord Zeus and then her mother.

"Rise, daughter," Athena says.

She stands uneasily.

"A great hero must be rewarded," Athena says. "Is there anyone here who would deny that she is deserving?"

Annabeth waits but not constructs a single protested.

"The Council agrees," Zeus says. "Annabeth Chase, you will have one gift from the gods."

She hesitates, "Any gift?"

Zeus nods grimly, "I know what you will ask. The greatest gift of all. Yes, if you want it, it shall be yours. The gods have not bestowed this gift on a mortal hero in many centuries, but, Annabeth Chase—if you wish it—you shall be made a god. Immortal. Undy—"

"No," Annabeth says immediately.

The Council is silent. The gods frown at each other like they must have misheard.

"What?" Zeus says. There's a dangerous edge to his voice, like a thunderstorm about to erupt.

She glances at Thalia and Nico. Annabeth thinks about her friends from camp: Leo Valdez, Malcolm, Percy, Ethan Nakamura and so many others who are dead now.

"Don't get me wrong, Lord Zeus. I am honored but… I made a promise to a… a friend. Do you promise me you'll grant him his wish?"

Zeus thinks about this, studying Annabeth with wary eyes, "If it is within our power."

"It is," she says. "And it's not even difficult. But I need your promise on the River Styx."

"What?" Dionysus scoffs. "You don't trust us?"

"Someone once told me," Annabeth says, looking at Nico, "you should always get a solemn oath."

Nico shrugs, "Guilty."

"Very well!" Zeus growls. "In the name of the Council, we swear by the River Styx to grant your _reasonable_ request as long as it is within our power."

The other gods mutter assent. Thunder booms, shaking the throne room. The deal made.

"From now on, I want to you properly recognize the children of the gods," Annabeth says. "All the children... of _all_ the gods."

The Olympians shift uncomfortably.

"Annabeth," her mother says, "what exactly do you mean?"

"Kronos couldn't have risen if it hadn't been for a lot of demigods who felt abandoned by their parents," she says. "They felt angry, resentful, and unloved, and they had a good reason."

Zeus's royal nostrils flare. "You dare accuse—"

"No more undetermined children," Annabeth tells them. "I want you to promise to claim your children—all your demigod children—by the time they turn thirteen. They won't be left out in the world on their own at the mercy of monsters. I want them claimed and brought to camp so they can be trained right, and survive."

"Now, wait just a moment," Apollo says, but Annabeth is on a roll.

"And the minor gods," she tells him. "Nemesis, Hecate, Morpheus, Janus, Hebe—they all deserve a general amnesty and a place at Camp Half-Blood. Their children shouldn't be ignored. And Hades—"

"Are you calling me a _minor god_?" Hades snarls.

"No, my lord," she murmurs quickly. "But your children should not be left out. They should have a cabin at camp. Nico has proven that. No unclaimed demigods will be crammed into the Hermes cabin anymore, wondering who their parents are. They'll have their own cabins, for all the gods. And no more pact of the Big Three. That didn't work anyway. You've got to stop trying to get rid of powerful demigods. We're going to train them and accept them instead. All children of the gods will be welcomed and treated with respect. That is my wish."

_Percy's wish_, she corrects silently.

Zeus snorts, "Is that all?"

"Annabeth," Poseidon says, "you ask much. You presume much."

"I hold you to your oath," she declares. "All of you."

Annabeth obtains many steely looks but Athena speaks in her favor:

"My child is correct. We have been unwise to ignore our children. It proved a strategic weakness in this war and almost caused our destruction. I move that we accept my daughter's plan."

"Humph," Zeus says. "Being told what to do by a mere child. But I suppose . . ."

"All in favor," Hermes says.

All the gods raise their hands.

Annabeth breathes a sigh of relief, "Thank you."

Zeus nods, "I declare this council adjourned."

"Wait," Annabeth says. "What about Thalia and Nico?"

Zeus huffs, "I believe they obtained enough incentives two days ago in the Plaza Hotel."

Thalia's face reddens, "I take it you heard about that then." She casts Jason a dark glare.

"Don't look at you brother like that," he growls at her. "I am Zeus; I know all of your dirty secrets."

Thalia makes a face.

"I still think they deserve a reward for their bravery," Hades grumbles. "My son, especially."

Zeus raises an eyebrow, "He gets to touch my daughter without being blast to pieces. Is that not reward enough?"

"You make a good point," Nico and Hades agree at the same time.


	14. Epilogue

**AN: This took me forever to do. But it's done, thank gawd. Anyway, my computer's back! I'm so happy, and I finished reading the Son of Neptune which only adds to my happiness. Now... I patienly await the Mark of Athena. Five bucks it's about Annabeth...**

**Anyhoo, if you haven't realized I have a new story up. It's called _Defiance. _It's another AU if the Titan's won the war. Basically, everyone assumes Percy is dead and Thalia takes his role of leader for seven years. Until a mission goes bad and she gets captured and taken to Mount Othrys. But instead of being killed, Kronos had a better punishment. Making Thalia his wife (aka, his trophy). It's a Rated M fic so you can pretty much get why and if your that dense well it includes the R-WORD aka Rape. So check it out, it starts out Rated T until the six or seventh chapter so you'll be fine for you squeamish types...**

**So, here's the Epilouge. The last piece of Stalemate. And this is dedicated to mind friend Lydia, the inspiration behind Terra and my right hand girlie. I love this chick and she helped me alot. Without her, the second part of _Cuba_ wouldnt have even come to my mind.**

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><p><strong>Manhattan, NY—September 18<strong>

Annabeth is nervous. Normally, she's doesn't regularly associate with that particular emotion. But then again, given the circumstances at the moment, she had reason to be nervous.

"1678!" Atalanta exclaims, her face portraying one of pure joy. "It's down this hall!"

_At least one of us is excited,_ she murmurs miserably, following her daughter. This morning they had taken a taxi to Manhattan. The Upper East Side to be more specific. It had to do with a promise Annabeth made to Atalanta the day before camp ended. Now that Annabeth had a considerable amount of free time, with the Titan War over and most of the children at Camp Half-Blood back at home with their families, Atalanta's promise was going to be fulfilled. Whether Annabeth liked it or not.

Atalanta stares at the door in front of her, looking at her mother anxiously. "What if she hates me?"

"Everyone likes you, Atalanta," Annabeth says honestly. "No one in their right mind could possibly hate you."

"Okay…" she says glumly, ringing the doorbell. The two stand there for a moment, unsure what to do. Atalanta shuffles from one foot to the other while Annabeth flicks off the invisible dirt from her shirt.

The door clicks open.

A beautiful woman appears in the doorway, a warm smile on her face. Instantly, the two are ambushed by the smell of chocolate chip cookies. Even in the dim light of the hallway, the woman eyes seem to sparkle a brilliant blue. Not a shocking color like Thalia's but… soft and gentle almost. There's something in the mortal woman's face… something that just screams for Percy.

"Can I help you?" Her voice is sweet, like honey.

Annabeth manages to find her voice. "Um… are you… Sally Jackson?"

The woman laughs, "Jackson's my maiden name, actually. It's Blowfis now. I haven't been called Sally Jackson since…" the woman's smile disappears. She stares closely at Annabeth and Atalanta, almost unsure. Then her eyes stop at Annabeth's arm and her expression drops. Annabeth curses herself for leaving her sweater in the car. Of course that'd look suspicious, being in the mid-90's.

"You know Percy." It's more of a statement then a question. The pain and happiness is gone in Sally's eyes, replaced the dullness of being drawn into deep thought.

Sally sighs, "He's dead, isn't he?"

Annabeth is at a loss for words. For once, she's just unsure of what to say. Even she can't imagine it, someone coming to her doorstep bringing the news of Atalanta's death.

_But hey! _They'd say. _Look on the bright side! At least your daughter had an angsty kid that'd probably be scared for the rest of his/her life. Well yeah, I'm late for dinner so catch you later!_

Lucky for Annabeth, her daughter catches on quickly.

"How do you know Daddy's dead?" she asks curiously, shooting her mother a strange glance.

"Dreams," Sally murmurs, staring at Atalanta liked she'd grow a third head. "I had dreams…" she trails off, still staring at Atalanta's face.

"You look just like him," she says finally, almost regretfully. "What's your name?"

"Atalanta."

Sally nods approvingly. "I'll tell you what, Atalanta. If you… if you ever need help or someone to talk to, I'll be here. Okay?"

Atalanta nods nervously, her lips forming a small pout. "Is it… is it okay if I hug you?"

The warm smile returns to Sally's lips, "Of course."

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Atalanta's arm wrap around her waist, "I've always wanted a grandma."

The sentence warms Annabeth's heart. Despite the awkwardness of this meeting, Atalanta's happy. That's all that really matters. But as Sally and Atalanta part, Ms. Jackson does something very surprising. She hugs Annabeth too.

"It's hard to lose him," Sally whispers in Annabeth's ear. "But it worse for you, I can tell. You've known him longer, much longer. But please remember Annabeth… it's not the end. Only the beginning, Annabeth. Only the beginning."

"I didn't tell you my name," Annabeth says wearily, pulling away. Despite her desperate need in wanting to trust Sally Jackson, nee Blowfis, old habits die harder than monsters.

"Dreams, Annabeth," Sally says. "Dreams."

**Guantanamo Province, Cuba—September 30**

This time, Thalia doesn't even get a chance to practice her knocking skills. The doors gone. Nico and Annabeth aren't sure how, but it just is.

Terra's glass home in Cuba isn't even considered a _home _anymore. The front of the house is covered in shard of glass, some covered in blood as if Terra had punch every single window in this house. The inside isn't much better. Small lizards scurry around, taking cover under broken chairs or tables. The leather sofa, like the door, has vanished.

"Well… this shit's depressing," Thalia murmurs, her usual energy missing. Dread and jetlag aren't exactly the best combination ever.

"No fucking duh," Annabeth retorts, more pieces of glass cracking under her sneakers. "Come on, lets head upstairs."

_A good call,_ Nico says to himself as they stare at the easels crowding Terra's bedroom. They've tripled since last time. But, besides the missing bed and the giant, bed-sized hole in the wall, Terra's room looks the same, like the first time they'd all visited together. With _Percy_. No doubt it felt incomplete without him here, his annoying smile, snarky attitude, and stupid remarks. They missed that, _all of it._ And with Terra gone, there are no arguments, making the house eerily silent.

It's all wrong.

Thalia scoffs half-heartedly, "Look at this."

Her voice draws their attention away from the hole in the wall. Thalia's standing in the corner of the room, staring at the group of paintings in the corner.

The setting of the first scene is familiar; Antaeus's Arena. In the stands nine kids, all resembling the nine of them who'd been raised by Daedalus, cheering and laughing. In the pit, two of the children wear breastplates. They couldn't be more than ten, and the armor seems to weigh down the smaller of the two. The larger one stabs a spear through the smaller ones guts. A look of triumph fills her features.

"Terra," Thalia says pointing to the small girl being stabbed.

"And Clarisse," Annabeth utters, staring guiltily at the painting. Sure, this event hadn't happened in real life. Yet this is how Terra felt in the Labyrinth; hated by all. The paintings only seem to get worse. There's one in pastels of Terra being whipped by Daedalus, something that may have or may not have happened.

Another one is of Terra stabbing Percy in the wrist, one event she'd been present for. It amazes Annabeth how Terra's memory helped her with these; Percy's left hand curls into a fist, thrusting upwards. It's obvious he's about to punch her in the face.

There's the time Luke had accidentally slashed his sword against Terra's cheek. Yet the painting portrayed it differently, almost intentionally along with a malicious look in Luke's eyes. Then there's the time with that game of hide and seek where Katie Gardner had locked Terra in a chest. And then there's Will Solace, stealing her food and Clarisse trying to shove Terra's head in toilet. Little, horrible things. Things no kid should have to go through. Especially since all of the painting are centered around the same two years.

Two years of torture.

The last painting is like the fine, expensive desert at the end of delicious dinner. (Thalia's _joking_ obviously). It's the pavilion where they ate amongst the Roman murals. There are three tables spread out on either side of the room. One on the right, one on the left, and one in the center.

The one of the right is crowded with kids. Thalia can see herself sitting next to Nico and Percy. Little Thalia's trying her best to win against Beckendorf in arm wrestling (the small details are magnificent). Silena's there too and Annabeth laughing over a joke Luke had told.

One the other table of the left sits Katie Gardner, Clarisse and Will Solace. They're laughing too, stuffing food into their mouths.

And lastly, sitting on the center table is a lone figure. It's Terra. Her face is easy to read: misery. In fact, the whole painting is easy to read, Terra feeling as if she doesn't belong. That holds some truth in the Labyrinth; Terra _didn't_ belong. She was better than them, nicer, kinder, smaller, faster… Yet she only saw faults. Faults amplified by Daedalus and his ways of teaching. Maybe if Terra had been at Camp Half-Blood, maybe if she hadn't been born to this curse, she'd be better. Better than them. She wouldn't be _dead._

"We should burn this," Thalia says finally, holding her hand out towards Nico. He rolls his eyes, handing her the lighter. "It'll be over. When these are gone… Terra can rest. _All of them_ can rest now."

"The end of the Chosen Ones then," Nico muses.

"Not the end," Annabeth murmurs, repeating the words of Sally Jackson. "Only the beginning."

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><p><strong>And that's the end... or not really. Only the beginning.<strong>

**Yes double meanings are... well... mean. Lol. Well The Great Resurrection wont be here for a while (I'm think January or Febuary) so get hooked on Defiance while you're waiting. **

**So ciao!**


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